


Drunken Love

by CrimsonBlueMoon (Navybluewings)



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Before the story starts, Drunken Shenanigans, Everyone loves to tease Steve, F/F, M/M, Meet-Cute, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Parent Steve Rogers, Peter is a fan of Tony, Steve to the rescue, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, fluff mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2020-06-27 21:12:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19797859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navybluewings/pseuds/CrimsonBlueMoon
Summary: In his humble life, Steve kept his focus on one thing; his six-year-old child, Peter. His only goal was making Peter happy. Steve has a good group of friends, a steady job, and a son that gave him love whenever he needed. Romance, despite his friends' protests, wasn't on his mind.Until he walks into a bar for dinner and takes a drunk man home. One that his son seems to know very well.Loosely based on the song "Drunk Girl" by Chris Janson.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this was originally for a bingo that I never got to participate in because I'm a mess of a human and the idea just kinda spiraled into something I didn't expect it to. So I'm hoping that you guys will like it anyways!

Steve didn’t know how much longer he could stare at the computer without punching a hole through the screen.

Normally, he enjoyed his job. What artist wouldn’t like designing upcoming video games? But the day had been long, between helping two interns learn the ropes of the business and checking the final run through of a game set to ship out to marketing the next week. It’d been fine until Scott had discovered a coding error, which had thrown Steve’s entire day on its head. The seven o’clock deadline he’d sworn he’d clock out at when letting Wanda and Pietro leave was well in the dust. 

“Alright, one more time.” He tried to give himself a pep talk when straightening his back, fingers clicking through the problematic code in hopes of discovering the malfunction. But the numbers continued to blend in front of him, leaving him with nothing more than a headache. Growling at the frustrating work, Steve closed out of the programming, knowing that he’d have to look it over with fresh eyes Monday. For now, he would only do more harm than good. Walking through once to confirm that the other offices were locked up, Steve shut down his computer and left the building. The leather jacket kept him warm in the snowy weather, Steve watching his breath puff into white smoke in the crisp air. December was right around the corner, and winter hadn’t decided to wait for the Christmas season to start. 

His cellphone warned him that it was far too late to cook. He’d defrosted chicken in the hopes of getting out of the habit of eating out when home alone, but the late night had thrown a wrench in his plan. If Natasha heard he’d gotten take-out again, he was sure she was going to start showing up at his office to drag him out at the appropriate time. He couldn’t blame her for worrying; this time of year was always hectic for the gaming world. Christmas and the following month were prime times to release new games, as parents were looking for the new item to buy their kids. 

_Peter would take a new chemistry set over any game my company produced._

The thought made Steve grin as he swung his leg over his bike, keeping a controlled pace when maneuvering the motorcycle through the semi-slippery streets. The late time of night meant little traffic, but the snow made Steve focus on the road. The last thing he needed was to get into an accident on the ‘death contraption’ that May had been begging him to get rid of for years. Instead, he kept his ride slow and steady, taking the memorized route to the local bar a short ride from his house. Fast food always left a heavyweight in his stomach the next morning, and though Steve’s abnormal metabolism and routine exercise program kept him fit, he hated the feeling. The bar was run by a family he’d known since he was a scrawny kid in Brooklyn, and had the world been kinder, would have married into. Their food had a hint of homemade flavor unobtainable in a brown paper bag, a bittersweet memory of the past Steve could never get enough of. 

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Bright eyes flickered with amusement, the woman’s hand resting on her hip after Steve approached the bartop. He gave a sheepish smile, the woman’s blond ponytail bobbing when she shook her head. “It’s almost eleven, Rogers. What are you doing here so late? And don’t even say dinner, because Nat will have my head on a platter.” 

“Nice to see you too, Sharon.” The two had been close for years, Sharon taking over most of the responsibility of 'Carter's Bar' when her parents started to get too old for long shifts. Steve hopped up onto the bar stool, though both knew his interest wasn’t alcohol. “She can’t complain if I get a salad, right?” 

“Is that what you’re aiming for? You look like you could use a heaping of Peggy’s homemade mac and cheese.” The mention of the delicacy made Steve’s stomach growl, and the two shared a glance before Sharon huffed out a laugh and turned to the kitchen. “Let me see what I can wrangle up for you.” 

“You’re the best.” 

“Make sure to write that on my headstone when Nat kills me.” Sharon disappeared behind the swinging doors, and Steve took the moment to glance around the room. Friday nights always drew in a good crowd at the bar, though the normal group of ‘townies’ was swapped out with a younger crowd. There were two colleges in walking distance, which made the larger bar a key spot for the legal students to drink. He was a few years older than the giggling girls now twirling one another around, heels that had started the night on their feet now piled in the corner by the door. In contrast to the makeshift dance floor, the bartop wasn’t packed, which made it easy for Steve to pick out the mop of dark hair shaking in a way that proved the owner wasn’t sober. He wasn’t sure why the motion caught his attention, but Steve found himself unable to pull his eyes off the scene unfolding a few barstools away from him. 

“Go home with you?” Though the music was loud, Steve picked up the conversation, ignoring the mental reprimanding of eavesdropping. Though the man looked casual in his leaning position against the bar, his slurred speech was enough for Steve to push the guilt away. “I’ll pass, Hammer.” 

“Aw, don’t be like that, Tony.” A taller man stepped into the brunet’s space, his hand dropping to the bartop. Though the businessman kept his smile unassuming, Steve picked up on the power play. He was trying to trap ‘Tony’ between him and the bartop, a move that made something unpleasant twist in Steve’s stomach. “You look like you need a friend to take you home; you’re not gonna be able to drive like this.”

“I can call Happy.” To prove the offered option, ‘Tony’ shoved his hand into his pocket, slouching away from the other man. He couldn’t get too far from the other’s body now pinning him to the side of the bar. He made his displeasure over the situation known with a hand pushing on the suit-covered chest. “And you’re not my friend, Justin. How did you even find me?” 

“You’re not that hard to locate.” The words were tossed out casually, yet the underlying implication that this man tracked down Tony was a little more disturbing when Justin slid his hand up the thigh perched on the barstool. “And you’re not the type to wake up your driver this late at night.”

“Even if I’m drunk, that’s sexual harassment.” The man named Tony batted the hand away from his leg, nearly toppling off the stool when he pushed up onto his feet. He made it two steps away before grabbing the bartop, eyes blinking as if to clear them. The hairs on the back of Steve’s neck rose when seeing the confusion in the brown gaze, which dropped down to the wobbly knees beneath him. A second of mental entanglement dissolved into anger, and Tony tried to sharpen his glare when looking back to his counterpart. “What the hell did you do to my drink?” 

“Oh, are you too drunk to stand?” But there was an edge to the words that proved that the sleaze already knew the answer. “You should really watch that; you’re such a lush when you had one too many.”

“And you’re a creep stone-cold sober. Can’t get someone in your bed without spiking their drink.” Even in the weakened state, it looked like Tony refused to be seen as helpless, making sure to add a bit of spite in his slurred words. His arms shook from supporting most of his weight, making him lean his hip into the uncomfortable edge of the wooden bartop. 

“Need a hand, Stark?” It wouldn’t be long until Tony lost the battle, even if his physique didn’t imply a lack of muscle underneath his blazer. From the glimmer of malicious victory reflected in the other man’s eyes, this Hammer fellow knew it. 

“Here you go, one Steve-size serving of Peggy’s mac-and-cheese. Sorry it took a bit, had to go out back-”

“Hold on to it for me.” Steve had been raised by a single mother who would have washed his mouth out with soap if she heard the sharp tone he’d used with Sharon. And later, he mentally swore he’d apologize. But he didn’t have time to explain the command when seeing Justin approaching Tony with intent that lacked any good will. 

“Steve?” Sharon’s voice seemed to be the trigger that Steve needed to move, pushing off his barstool to approach the tense situation he’d been watching from afar. 

“Don’t touch him.” His voice commanded the attention of the two businessmen, and Steve used his larger frame to invoke an aura of confidence that he normally lacked. 

“What are you, one of Stark’s new boytoys? Sorry, but he’s coming home with me tonight; better luck next time.” There was a pompous flair in the hand that tried to wave Steve away, but he ignored it and took a quick step forward. His larger body made Justin stumble back, and a small part of him enjoyed watching the dumbfounded look pass over Hammer’s face. 

“That’s not happening.” 

“Seriously, who _are_ you?” Justin’s look flipped into a defensive stare, seeming to recognize the shift of power instantly. Steve gave a shrug before stepping closer to the surprisingly quiet man between them, slow to offer his hand in hopes of helping Tony back to a barstool. 

“Just a guy who doesn’t like bullies,” Steve answered honestly, checking the pupils that stared up at him after a slow blink. Tony’s eyes were hazier than Steve felt comfortable with, but he seemed coherent enough to take the offering, grabbing the firm forearm with both of his hands. The sway of weight made Tony stumble into Steve’s side, but his reflexes allowed him to catch Tony’s waist with his free arm. 

“What are you doing?! You- you can’t just _touch_ Tony like that. You don’t even know him!” If Tony had an issue being pressed to Steve’s side, he didn’t voice it. In fact, Steve was sure he’d felt Tony lean closer to him, the tip of his nose brushing along Steve’s shoulder. Satisfied that he wasn’t making the drugged man uncomfortable, Steve turned his blue eyes back to Justin. 

“You do know that spiking someone’s drink is illegal, right? Consumption by fraudulence or second-degree assault, depending on the DA. Class four felony in some states. Can get you six years of jail time.” He let the drop of information sink into the air before he glanced behind him, relieved to see Sharon’s eyes lighting up with realization. She moved without hesitation to pick up the glass Tony had been drinking from, pulling it out of Justin’s range. “What did you give him? Ketamine? Rohypnol?” 

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” The burst of anger didn’t affect Steve, who simply stared at the spectacle Justin was now making. As if it’d intimidate Steve, Justin started waving his hands in the air while he spoke. “I’m Justin Hammer; the CEO of Hammer industries. I will sue you for even implying that I committed such a crime-”

“We can solve this right now; I have the chief of the NYPD sex crimes on speed dial.” He made the statement curve into a threat with little effort, enjoying the moment of fear that flickered in Hammer’s face before he schooled it into a scowl. 

“You’re lying.”

“He’s not,” Sharon interjected, the glass from before nowhere to be seen. She leaned on the bar and sent an intimidating glare Hammer’s way. “And let me let you in on a little secret; Detective Romanoff is not a woman who enjoys her Friday poker night interrupted by scumbags spiking drinks.” 

“This is… this is madness! I’m leaving.” Justin gave one last leering look toward Tony, and Steve felt his arm tightened around the man before pulling him closer. The silent meaning was received, Hammer growling before storming his way out of the bar. 

“This place still have cameras?” Steve asked the second Justin left the establishment, Sharon giving a steady nod.

“Just got them updated last month. I’ll call Nat and let her know what’s going on so we can file a report in the morning. And we need to get him to a hospital-”

“No hospitals.” It was the first time Tony had spoken since Steve approached the scene, but his voice left no room to argue against his firm demand. “Don’t need this in the news, just… need a few hours to get it out of my system.”

“You were fed a date-rape drug,” Steve clarified, not sure if Tony was fully aware of the situation at hand. But from the roll of the eyes he got in return, it wasn’t needed. 

“Not Tony Stark’s first rodeo with this kind of tactic, cowboy.” Tony tried to push his weight onto his legs, but they seemed as useless as they had been ten minutes before. Steve tightened his hold and let out an irritated huff of air. This one seemed as stubborn as his best friend, and getting Bucky to do anything he didn’t want to was like dodging the rain in a hurricane. 

“We can’t send you home, Tony. The press would be all over it if you stumbled into your house like this. I’m surprised they’re not swarming the front door yet after seeing you come in.” Sharon seemed to know Tony well, if the softening of her voice at the end of her statement was anything to go by. He wanted to question her about who Tony was and why the press would be inclined to follow him around, but Tony’s well-being took first priority. 

“Then take me to yours, darling.” Steve was unsure if it was the drug or Tony’s normal personality that made him wink at Sharon, but he was surprised when she simply laughed and shook her head. 

“Not sure my girlfriend would like that much.” 

“Nat loves me!” Tony swung his arm out wide to show his enthusiasm, nearly knocking himself out of Steve’s grasp. The poor coordination and slurred speech had increased, and the designer knew it was far too late to think of calling people to come get the man.

“I’ve got him.” Steve gave a one-shoulder shrug when Sharon arched an eyebrow his way. “Peter’s with May for his weekly sleepover, and I don’t have work tomorrow. I can keep him alive until this stuff wears off and see if he’s more willing to press charges in the morning.”

“I won’t be.” Tony’s reply was weaker in volume, but steady in conviction. 

“Knowing this stubborn ass, I actually believe him when he says that.” Sharon sighed, the shake of her head fonder than most times he’d seen her dealing with drunks in her bar. “Better go through the back; never know if the vultures are lurking out front after Hammer’s hissy fit.” 

“What is this guy, an actor or something?” Steve asked, earning a scoff in reply.

“Oh, he’s something alright. Just get him home safe.” A set of keys were tossed his way, Steve only managing to snag them at the last second. “You’re not gonna be able to lug him around on your bike, so I’ll have Nat swing by and pick up your ride. You can take his car. You’ll like it; it goes too fast and is super flashy.” 

“Glad to know you think so highly of me.” They shared a grin before Steve glanced back down at Tony, who had lulled into a state of compliance which seemed impossible seconds before. Whatever drug Hammer had used had been enough of a dose to make an elephant lose a fight, and the thought burned something deep inside Steve. 

Knowing the idea of getting him to walk was moot, Steve bent down to snag under Tony’s knees, easily lifting him into a bridal hold. A noise was breathed out against Steve’s neck, but nothing more was said, and Steve took it as a sign to proceed. Sharon helped transition the two through the back, handing Steve his lukewarm dinner after Tony was situated in the car (which Steve had to whistle at, because it _was_ a dream of his to drive a car with the speed range of an Audi R8). A hug goodbye and a massive shift in the seat, and Steve was off, fighting the desire to speed in the heavier snow. The ride was short, and parking the extravagant automobile in his barely used garage was weird, but he didn’t want to chance any damage. 

“Tony?” He’d dropped off the dinner and messenger bag onto his counter before coming back for the man who looked comfortable curled up in the passenger seat. Shoes had been kicked off along the way, the silk socks donning Tony’s feet more expensive than Steve’s entire outfit. Shaking his head, Steve turned his attention back to Tony, who only curled deeper into himself at the hand shaking his shoulder. “I’m gonna pick you up again, okay?”

“Leave me here; comfy.” There was a childish tone to Tony's voice, which would have almost been cute if Steve didn’t know the reason for it. 

“You can’t sleep in here; my garage isn’t insulated.” 

“Why not?”

“Because most people don’t have the money to do that.” 

“I do; borrow mine.” The incoherent statement made Steve mentally groan before he moved, scooping the warm body back against his chest. He bumped his shoulder into the side of the door when carrying Tony into the house. He nearly tripped over the collection of action figures in the living room, the swear falling from his mouth making Tony snicker and Steve flush. Tony’s beard scraped along the sensitive skin of Steve’s neck, which had been more exposed from Tony’s weight tugging down his shirt. “I’m sharing a room with the kiddo? Or do I get to snuggle with you and your wife?” 

“Peter’s not home and I… I’m not married.” 

Peter had been a blessing to both of his parents. His mother, Peggy Carter, was a spitfire soldier that demanded the eye and attention of any man or women she walked past in a room. She had been intelligent, strong-willed, and kind when someone wasn’t trying to hurt the people she loved. Peggy and Steve’s relationship had blossomed their final year in high school, and he’d had dreams of raising a family with Peggy. But her job was her life, signing up for the army the second she turned eighteen. She rose through the ranks flawlessly, and even the surprising news she was pregnant at twenty only kept her down as long as her doctors ordered. Steve didn’t mind taking the more domestic lifestyle, working from home while Peggy returned to her job in the military. And though the two had never tied the knot, Peggy made sure to video chat with Peter every night, no matter where she was stationed overseas. 

And then, two weeks before their son turned three, Peggy was killed in action. The news spoke of the school bombing in Iraq, and the four soldiers whose lives had been taken in the aftermath. The report that Steve had gotten spoke of Peggy’s last moments being valiant, refusing to leave the hostile environment until every little girl had been evacuated from the school. And they had, with only seven seconds to spare before the building went up in smoke, Peggy and her comrades still inside. Too stubborn to let the radicals steal a single young soul, Peggy had died proving just how amazing she truly was. And though Steve’s grief and anger had left him with nights of hating that side of his son’s mother, years had helped heal his scars. That spirit had been why Steve had fallen in love with her; how could he ever curse something that gave him Peggy, even if it was only for a few short years? He focused instead on keeping Peggy’s spirit alive in Peter, who every day showed more and more of the brilliance his mother had bestowed on him. 

“How is something like you single?” Tony’s blunt shock rolled through his question, and Steve laughed despite the blush that started to color his cheeks. 

“Something?” He took the stairs to his bedroom slow, not wanting to fall with the smaller man in his arms. 

“Shut up, brain’s still… trying not to turn into mashed potatoes.” 

“You’re something else, you know that?” 

“You have _no_ idea.” By the time he reached his humble room, Tony had started to squirm in his hold, arms awkwardly yanking from the jacket he’d worn into the bar. 

“Hold on, let me…” Steve took care in placing Tony onto the edge of the bed, staying close in case the man swayed the wrong way. Tony held his own, however, letting out a happy sigh when tugging the expensive fabric off his shoulders. It was a little surprising to see the Metallica logo underneath the blazer, which would normally be paired with a button up and tie. The black shirt had a faint glow of blue underneath the fabric, making Steve blink. What was that? A warm hand pressed against Steve’s shoulder pulled his attention from the strange light. Tony yanked his socks off, one narrowly missing the side of Steve’s head. If Tony noticed, he didn’t mention it, using his hold on Steve to push to his feet. 

“Help me out of my pants.” Tony spoke like a man used to being listened to, and for a moment Steve was tempted to deny his request on sheer principle. But after being drugged and nearly coerced into doing things Steve didn’t want to think about, he gave the tone a pass.

“Still feeling the effects?” 

“I’m pretty sure I’m melting.” Tony fumbled with his belt, proving that his fine motor skills were all but gone. Steve had learned enough from Natasha to know how drugs like these worked, and though Tony presented himself well, he was still under the drink’s effect. Steve was slow when he reached out to the other man to help him, giving plenty of time to pull away. 

“Then let’s get you ready for bed.” He knew he had good intentions with his touches, but Tony had still been drugged against his will. Steve didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable as he helped the expensive pants down lean legs. He felt Tony’s toes wiggle when he slipped the material over them, dropping them to the floor before starting to rise from his kneeling position. He nearly stumbled onto the bed when warm arms circled his shoulders, pulling him down with a jerk of his hands. Steve countered easily, palms catching his weight on either side of the hips sitting on the edge of the mattress. Tony’s eyes were clear despite his flushed cheeks, voice too sweet to be sober. 

“Is it my turn to undress you now?” Steve felt his stomach flip when Tony’s gaze swept over his body, before glancing back up with a grin that would make a prostitute blush. “I’ve been told I’m an amazing... _cuddler_.” 

“Tony,” Steve warned, though the other didn’t seem bothered by the stern tone. Despite lacking the ability to take his own clothes off, his hands didn’t seem to falter when sliding through the hair on the back of Steve’s head and pulling him closer. The breath against his lips was warm, Steve smelling the hint of scotch and something else lingering. 

“I know when someone finds me attractive, _Steve_. We could have fun, you know.” The flirting curl of Tony’s voice was tempting, but Steve didn’t hesitate to pull back and place distance between them. Instead, he moved his attention to Tony’s legs, sweeping them under the heavy comforter while pushing Tony to lay down on the bed. 

“Stay here.” He aimed his tone to match the one he used when Peter tried to avoid eating his vegetables at dinner, knowing the sheepish glint in Tony’s gaze implied he’d planned to move before Steve spoke. “I’m going to get you some Gatorade and medicine for the morning.”

“Then we cuddle?” He had to give Tony credit for his persistence. The casual way he pulled Steve’s attention to his lower lip when he bit the edge of it was a dirty trick Steve couldn’t hate. Though he had no intention of taking Tony up on his offer, he had to admit the man was attractive. But it wasn’t enough for him to give an inch about his decision to keep Tony safe from anyone who wanted to take advantage of him.

“Sharon wasn’t kidding about you, huh?” Shaking his head, Steve pushed away from the bed, glancing back when in the doorway to make sure Tony hadn’t followed. The sheets were wrapped around the curled-up frame of the other, a hint of Tony’s feet poking out from the edge of the comforter that had been tucked in seconds ago. Tony’s eyes had already fluttered closed, showing that the changes of Tony disobeying his earlier order were slim. For a moment, he took in how much smaller Tony looked in his bed when his large personality and sly words weren’t a factor. Though their earlier conversation had implied that this wasn’t Tony’s first brush with being drugged, seeing his messy curls buried in the blue pillowcase twisted something unpleasant in Steve’s gut. How many times would someone have to get taken advantage of to be so unconcerned about getting drugged like that? And how many of those times had there not been someone like Steve to keep Tony safe?

True to his words, Steve quietly made the trek through the home to gather the medication and Gatorade for his temporary housemate. He left the room after depositing both onto the nightstand, stealing the much smaller comforter and pillows off Peter’s bed before flopping down onto his couch. The lumps and dilapidated cushions weren’t the most comfortable sleeping arrangement, but Steve was far too big to try and cram himself into Peter’s little bed. And even if Tony was asleep, he didn’t feel it was appropriate to sleep in the same bed. Steve glanced at his phone, seeing that the battery was under ten percent and was in desperate need of a charge. But the day and hectic night had caught up to him, and he dropped the device onto his coffee table before rolling into the back of the couch. He didn’t have a reason to worry about someone trying to contact him on the weekend, and Peter was with his aunt. He’d get up and charge it in the morning. Well, after he made sure Tony was okay and on his way back to wherever eccentric businessmen with pretty eyes and teasing grins went on the weekends. 

Too tired to think on the idea for long, Steve pulled the power ranger comforter closer and succumbed to his exhaustion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning doesn't go the way Steve planned. It might have something to do with Peter's love of pancakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah thank you all who have been leaving sweet comments! You're honestly so kind, it really helped me finish this part up. <3

It wasn’t the light or the noise from outside the open window that woke Steve the next morning; it was the blunt edge of the spatula pressed into his cheek. 

“Dad, you’re gonna miss breakfast.” Peter’s voice took a moment to register, but it made Steve open his eyes with a groan. Steve sat up from the lumpy couch, the drool on the side of his chin swiped off when he blinked the rest of his sleep away. Slowly, he took in the eyes staring down at him, bright with far more excitement than expected. 

“What are… you’re home early.” 

“It’s the last Saturday of the month, remember?” Peter cocked his head to the side at the question, and it didn’t take Steve long to realize the implications of the statement. Aunt May always volunteered the last Saturday of the month, meaning she brought Peter home earlier than normal. The information had slipped his mind the night before, never managing to keep his Saturdays straight. Fully awake now, Steve took in Peter’s appearance again, a warning bell going through his head when seeing the smear of batter crossing the round cheek in front of him. 

“Did you start cooking without me?” He scowled when Peter nodded, Steve rising off the couch while shaking his head. “Peter, I’ve told you that we don’t cook on the stove unless there’s an adult present-” 

“I have an adult,” Peter supplied instantly, his hand waving the spatula through the air to show his protest. 

“Uncle Bucky come by early?” 

“No, even better!” Steve arched an eyebrow, wondering who would get a bigger reaction than Bucky. Peter enjoyed their group breakfasts with Nat, Clint, and Sam, but Bucky had always been the favorite. A quick glance to the clock on the wall (as his phone was well beyond dead) proved that his motley crew of ‘Breakfast thieves’ wouldn’t be strolling in for at least another ten minutes. But Peter looked ready to vibrate out of his Superman pjs when he grabbed Steve’s wrist, pulling him toward the kitchen. “Dad, you didn’t tell me you knew a celebrity.” 

“A what?” For a moment, Steve was distracted, his stomach’s loud protest echoing in his ears ar the smell of bacon and pancakes. He was reminded of the dinner he’d been unable to eat the night before, though the thought of food was quick to leave his mind when seeing a familiar set of brown curls posted in front of his stove. Tony’s eyes were alive and clear as they glanced to the doorway Steve had stopped walking through, not hiding their appreciation of Steve’s body when giving him a once over. Heat swelled in Steve’s cheeks at the obvious way Tony checked him out, and Steve tugged at the hem of the ratty shirt he’d tossed on the night before. Tony’s lips quirked into a smirk before his eyes left Steve, turning to Peter and tilting his head toward the stove. 

“Your pancake’s two seconds from pulling a reverse Michael Jackson, kid.” The outdated reference was obviously lost on Peter, but Steve’s kid was smart enough to understand the point of the dramatic statement. Peter left his father’s side without hesitation, hopping up onto the chair that Tony had dragged by the stove to see the pan bubbling with pancake batter. 

“Sorry, Mr. Stark!” 

“I’ve already told you, that was my dad,” Tony grumbled at the child now trying to shove his spatula under the uneven mess of a pancake in the pan. Steve, who finally managed to free up his vocal chords, stepped fully into the kitchen. 

“Peter, how do you know Tony?” He asked slowly, keeping his skeptical gaze on the man now dropping the strips of uncooked bacon into the pan in front of him. It took him a moment to realize that while Tony had slept in his own clothes the night before, they were gone now. The blue t-shirt, unzipped hoodie and grey sweatpants (that looked far too big to comfortably sit on his hips) were all from Steve’s wardrobe. A sweep of Tony’s frame showed the three rubber bands wrapped around the excess give of the waistband. A towel on the counter and the wet edge of Tony’s hair proved he’d showered. From how quickly Tony ransacked his bureau and his kitchen, it was clear to see he didn’t seem to waste time getting comfortable in another’s house.

“Mr. Sta- uh, Tony,” Peter started, glancing back to Tony and waiting for the grin of approval before he continued. “He’s one of the coolest people in the world.”

“Well, I mean I wouldn’t say I’m that special… but when you say ‘one of’, that’s almost implying there’s someone cooler than a guy who literally created a new element when bored in college.” Tony’s eyebrow quirked at the bright grin Peter gave him, then glanced back to Steve with a dramatic sigh. “Kids these days.” 

“At least he knows who you are,” Steve admitted, feeling the tips of his ears warm from the disbelieving look Tony shot his way. “I’m not too big on the same type of stuff Peter is; I can barely help him with his homework. I’m guessing you work with… some sort of science?” 

“Wounded, Steven, I’m wounded.” Tony’s eyes were playful when he pressed his hand to his chest. Steve’s eye picked up on how the shirt caught the edge of something under the fabric, but Tony’s quick mouth made it impossible to ask. “I’m more than a pretty face and owner of three PhDs; I also run a multi-billion dollar corporation called Stark industries and have been named hottest bachelor in the world twice.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short on my behalf,” Steve replied dryly, but Peter’s obvious enchantment of the man didn’t waver. 

“I didn’t know my dad was friends with you. That’s so cool!” 

“We actually just met; seems like your dad’s got a thing for being a knight in shining armor.” Tony’s explanation was simplistic but true, in a way that Steve hated to admit was more often than not. He’d gotten a reputation of being the one to stand up for those he felt were wronged, no matter the consequences for himself in the end. When his friends were in a teasing mode, they’d coined the name ‘Captain America’ for him, claiming Steve was built on apple pie and the American dream. 

“Can you stay for breakfast?” Peter looked eager for the answer to his question, but the ring of the front doorbell distracted him enough to forget the offer when he hopped off the chair. “I’ll get it!” 

“Make sure to look before opening the door.” Steve’s reminder was met with a wave when Peter disappeared from the room, and Steve let out a silent sigh before turning his attention back to Tony. Unsure how to start the multiple questions that sprung into his head, Steve was grateful when Tony spoke up first. 

“Cute kid; I’m guessing he’s a spitting image of his mom?” 

“Peggy used to say he got her looks and my personality, though I think he got everything from her. She was the smart one who loved pancakes.” Steve picked up on the change in Tony’s eyes, knowing he was too smart to not understand what Steve was implying. But instead of the pity or sympathy that was normally curled in an apology, Tony dropped his head back to look at Peter’s pancake. 

“Teach him not to ask strangers to make pancakes with him; kid nearly gave me a heart attack when I walked out of the bathroom and saw the intelligent gremlin perched on the bed.” A flick of the wrist popped the semi-burnt blob onto a plate with plenty of pancakes that met the normal criteria for shape and color. Steve also picked up on the overwhelming pile of bacon and sausage to the side, neither looking as inedible as they normally did when Steve cooked. He tried, and his friend’s taste buds (except Natasha) had been long ago destroyed by their tours in the army. So seeing the food not charred with black spots from overcooking made his stomach growl again, though he coughed to hide the noise. 

“I’m sorry about that. I forgot that Peter was coming home early today. He probably thought it was me in there, and didn't notice me on the couch. I don’t normally, uh...” 

“Bring drugged men home?” Tony asked casually, and Steve fumbled to give a quick response.

“Bring anyone home.” Tony’s hand paused for a moment on the dial before taking out the last of the bacon and flicking the flame under both pans off. Then, he turned to lean on the edge of the counter with a grin. 

“Well then I guess I’m just special, aren’t I?” Tony looked like he was enjoying catching Steve off guard, fingers tapping on the marble while waiting for a response to his question. Trying to gain control of his own embarrassment, Steve moved forward to grab the plates from the cabinet. 

“You didn’t have to do this; you could have woken me up. I’m sure you’ve got things you have to get to-” 

“Besides send a nasty porn virus to Justin Hammer and sic Pepper on him, I tend not to plan world takeovers on my weekends.” Steve couldn’t tell how much of Tony’s casual statement was a joke. He wasn’t given time to figure it out, Tony’s rambling too quick to interject. “And Peter was a little too excited to just let me walk out the door without asking me every robotic question he could. Plus, he showed me his science fair project; your kid’s circuit board is gonna kick the crap out of any baking soda volcano. Made my first one when I was four, but his works not too shabby. I let him explain how he made it, which somehow turned into making breakfast and way too many thoughts about self-baking pancake skillets. Peter wants Superman prints on them, though I think Batman would sell better. Pepper will probably stab me with her heel if I take on another project before finishing my blueprints for next week’s business meeting, but I think Peter’s got enough charm to diffuse her. Or maybe throw you in front of her; god knows you’re handsome enough to melt most rational thought.” 

“Not to sound rude,” Steve started, cheeks pink from the compliment when Tony finally paused his stream of consciousness. “But none of that explains why you’re still here.”

“Why didn’t you kiss me last night?” The turn of the conversation had Steve blinking, confused at the eyes that analyzed him impassively. 

“You weren’t in a position to give consent; anyone would have said no.”

“Not everyone wants to play the hero, Steve.” The doubt that sparked in Tony’s brown gaze made Steve suck in a sharp breath, and he had to drop the final plate onto the small table to keep from cracking it in his trembling hands. Anger wasn’t an emotion he dwelled on long, but hearing the casual tone that Tony used when speaking of others taking advantage of him, like it was the expectation instead of the disgusting exception... 

“Well hello, handsome.” The whistle by the doorway caught Steve off guard, not hearing the approaching footsteps during his intense conversation with Tony. Clint looked giddy when taking in his fill of Tony, grin wide and naive over the topic he’d interrupted. “Steve didn’t tell me he got a roommate.” 

“This place would fit in my workshop at my summer home,” Tony answered without missing a beat, any trace of the somber moment gone when he popped a piece of bacon into his mouth. “Nope, sadly I’m just a one-night tenant for your beautiful beefcake.” 

“Wait.” The pure shock that filled Clint’s face when processing the words made Steve groan, already knowing the Pandora’s box Tony had opened. “Bucky, get your ass in here; Steve finally got some!” 

“That’s not what happened,” Steve protested, sending a glare to Tony when he snickered behind a bite of pancake. 

“Sorry, can’t hear you.” Clint pointed to his ears, as if Steve didn’t know about the hearing devices snug against Clint’s eardrum.

“He totally can. Not to brag, but those are my design.” Tony’s face lacked the innocence it was aiming for when covered with a grin, and Steve wanted to stuff the smug smile with the whole plate of pancakes. “What? Your friend’s got good taste.” 

“Why thank you.” Clint was quick to cross the kitchen for the food, swiping a plate from the table that Steve doubted the fidgety man would actually sit at. “It’s about time someone recognized me.”

“Want us to make you an appreciation chart?” Natasha’s dry question showed she had no intent on following through with her offer, arms crossed when stepping into the kitchen. “Maybe Peter will let you borrow his scratch and sniff stickers.” 

“You know, you used to love me. Where did that Nat go? I miss her.” Clint was dramatic playing up his sniffles, the noise muffled when shoving another pancake in his mouth. 

“She got a hot girlfriend and left your butt and that disgusting apartment.” Sam’s answer was blunt and unapologetic. The grin he gave exposed the gap in his teeth before stepping to the side to let Peter squeak by. Always the more polite member of their group, Steve watched Sam help Peter grab his plate for breakfast before he move forward to give Tony his attention. “It’s nice to meet you; I’m Sam Wilson, the idiot at the table is one Clint Barton. And she’s-”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Nat interrupted, sipping from coffee cup she’d snuck without Steve noticing. Her eyes told a story he couldn’t decipher when flickering to Tony. “Stark and I have met.” 

“That’s putting it lightly.” The response from Tony made Steve frown, wondering what their history was. He didn’t like the strange silent conversation the two acquaintances were sharing with just their eyes. Nat brushed by Tony to perch in her normal seat at the breakfast table, and Tony made a show of rolling his eyes. 

“Everyone Nat knows is hot,” Clint groaned, leaning his head back before a hard shove nearly knocked him over. 

“Then why’d she meet you?” Bucky’s smirk was wide after the insult, but he barely let his eyes linger on Clint’s middle finger (Steve was thankful he’d waited for Peter’s focus to be on the pancakes) before turning back to them.

Steve noticed that Bucky didn't shy away from showing the missing limb when he faced Tony, something that proved he was making progress. Sam, despite his own demons from the air force, ran a great veteran's clinic which supported Bucky and Clint's recovery. Before starting his therapy, meeting new people with his mental and physical injuries from his tour (the same tour which ruined Barton's hearing) was hard for Bucky, hating the guilt-ridden looks they always held. Now, he stood strong, holding out his other hand to drop it onto Steve's shoulder with a smirk.

“So, you’re the one Steve finally took home?"

"I've been known for worse," Tony replied, gaze only dropping to Bucky's shoulder for a moment before turning his attention back to his coffee. He held the same nonchalance he'd maintained when regarding Peggy, which Steve was thankful for. 

"Been long enough.”

“Excuse me,” Steve cut in, but Bucky rolled his eyes to show how little he cared about the protest.

“Thought you’d go for younger.” 

“Excuse **me**?” Now it was Tony who looked annoyed, Nat’s pleased smirk hidden behind another sip. 

“What are you doing here, Stark? Don’t you have some important musume wing opening that you need to complain to Pepper about?” Steve distantly remembered Natasha speaking about a Pepper Potts in her self-defense class, saying the two had hit it off enough to go for monthly lunches and complain about ‘high strung bosses’. Now, seeing Tony’s frown, Steve wondered if this was how the two knew each other. 

“Well, Ms.Romanoff, despite your creepy ability to hack into my schedule and know what I’m up to, the wing isn’t being opened for two months.” Tony took the mature root of sticking out his tongue at Nat before sipping on his coffee, switching his attention to Sam when he let out a slow whistle.

“So Nat wasn’t kidding about you being a big deal, huh? Got to do something pretty special to have a musume wanna dedicate an entire wing to you.” 

“I’ve donated a couple of my old prototypes to them for people to interact with, and their sale of admission tickets has gone through the roof since. So now they want a whole section just for my brain’s rejected blueprints. Who would have thought?” But the smirk that Tony wore proved that he knew exactly what he was doing. 

“Woah! That’s so cool!” Peter was enamored by the information, nearly spilling the glass of milk Steve poured him from his hands slamming into the table. “You mean if we go to the musume, we’ll get to actually see your prototypes? Which ones? How old? What type of metals did you use to-”

“You’ll just have to go and see for yourself, kiddo.” Bucky dropped his hand to Peter’s head and ruffled his hair, grinning when Peter laughed and tried to pull away from the teasing. 

“Dad, can we go?” The bright eyes that flickered up to him made Steve smile, his nod far too easy to give.

“Yeah, we can go. But you’ve gotta wait until it opens, and there’s no guarantee we’ll be able to get in the first day.” He didn’t like dampening Peter’s excitement, watching some of the sparkle in his son’s eyes dim at the realistic news. Peter’s fascination with robotics would only make his wait longer, and Steve wished his phone wasn’t dead. He’d have to charge it quick to see if he could buy tickets for the new exhibit ahead of time. 

“Or we could go together.” But he stopped his thought process when Tony spoke, Steve glancing over to him and watching him give a casual shrug. “My robots, my rules. It’s not gonna be fully complete for another two weeks, but they already told me that I can come see the exhibit any time I want. I could get you two in for free if you’re not doing anything today. The trip might take more than one stroll, though, especially with me as your tour guide. I’m thinking at least three visits to get the full Tony Stark experience.” 

“Really?” Wide eyes blossomed with shock and excitement as Peter gaped at Tony, hands clenching around his fork and knife while he trembled in happiness. “We could really go with you?”

“Sure, why not? Least I can do for your dad letting me crash in his bed for the night.” A wink was sent Steve’s way, and Steve ignored the cackle from Clint and Natasha’s eyebrow lift in order to clear his throat. 

“Uh, Tony. Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?” He didn’t want Peter to see the serious look that crossed over his face; he was far too perceptive for his young age. Peter would know instantly that something was wrong. So Steve forced a smile when Tony gave a casual shrug, popping the last piece of bacon on his plate into his mouth before following. They crossed through the living room in silence, Steve holding the sliding door of the patio open for Tony to step through before he closed it behind them. 

“Am I about to get a shovel talk? I mean, it won’t be my first one, but normally it was a husband and not a jealous father-” 

“That’s not what this is about.” Steve crossed his arms to try and show his irritation. “It’s… listen, I stand by what I did last night. Nobody has the right to treat you or anyone else like that. I still would like you to report it-"

"That isn't happening," Tony said, the fire in his eyes proving he wouldn't be swayed.

"And I can't make you," Steve replied softly, knowing from Nat's stories what pressuring anyone to report could do. "Still, if I had the chance to punch that Justin guy without it affecting Peter, I would do it in a second.”

“I’m not trying to get sidetracked here, sweetheart, but thinking of you manhandling Hammer over my virtue in that very tight shirt is-I know it doesn't seem possible, but I am only human,” Tony said, making sure his eyes took in Steve’s threadbare shirt again. Steve tried not to show his squirm, pushing out the rest of his statement through red cheeks. 

“Tony-"

"Right, right, shovel talk. Proceed."

"Listen," Steve started, hoping his voice steadied enough to hold the serious tone he'd been aiming for. "I asked you to come out here because I don’t want you getting on Peter’s good side if you’re trying to pay me back or something. He really likes you, and if he realized you were just trying to get to know him because of me he-”

“Oh, wow.” Tony cut into the conversation without a hint of remorse, but the scowl that Steve expected to find was covered with a grin far too wide for the topic at hand. “You’re saying I’m schmoozing up to your son because I think you’re hot?” 

“Uh, I… that’s not what I said, exactly.” 

“But it’s definitely what you were thinking.” He tried not to let his face flush at the truth, hands suddenly feeling too uncomfortable crossed in front of him. He dropped them to his hips, then by his sides when Tony let out a laugh with as much flair as his personality. “Let me clear up some stuff. Your kid’s smart.”

“He is,” Steve agreed, knowing his pride showed with his smile. Tony’s eyes flickered to his lips, and a pleasant flutter rumbled in Steve’ stomach when a pink tongue swiped across Tony’s lower lip.

“And yes, his father is very attractive. Like, kind of sure I’m going to have terribly distracting daydreams about him for the rest of my life.” Tony seemed to be thinking of one while he spoke from how his eyes slid down Steve’s body. Then brown turned back up, the alluring smirk from before softening without Tony’s knowledge. “But I can get attractive anywhere. I’m Tony Stark; finding sex isn’t hard. I **can’t** get Peter’s brain anywhere; he’s special. He literally sat there and had a longer conversation about robot interface than some of the doctorate graduates I have in my company. And he kept up with me, mostly.”

“Yet he still struggles to understand why broccoli is important.” Steve’s reply made Tony roll his eyes, but his body was relaxed when he leaned against the patio’s railing.

“Because broccoli is disgusting unless covered in cheese.” 

“Which ruins the whole point of it. Do I need to give you the talk, too?” 

“Only if you do it naked.” Flirting seemed to be Tony’s first language, but his off-hand comment lacked his full attention when glancing out the morning light shining across the New York skyline. “My point is, I’m not trying to use Peter to get in your pants. He’s just… a breath of fresh air. Tells me things because they’re smart ideas, and not so much because they’re good for business or profitable.”

“I’m guessing it’s hard to find people like that in the mogel circle?” Steve asked, wondering how someone like Tony managed to keep his fire in the cookie-cutter world of corporate. 

“Why do you think I like my lab to be so far away from Stark Industries?” The smile Tony let himself show when he wasn’t putting on a show for others was endearing, even with the bitter twine at the edges. Steve felt himself watching the broken quirk of Tony’s lips as he continued. "I just want to hang out with him for a bit. We both win, really; he gets some time with his idol, I get a conversation with someone with a brain who’s not trying to backstab me. But I figured you’d rather be there then let some stranger take your kid. Hence, the musume trips.”

“And you’re sure that you’re not gonna be needed for stuff at your business? I don’t want to get Peter’s hopes up, and you seem like someone who doesn’t have a lot of free time on his hands.” 

“I can take a couple Saturdays off to admire my own work. That’s the benefit of being my own boss; I can do my paperwork whenever I want. Just don’t tell Pepper I said that. Nat’s defense training and walking around in high heels while running my company have made her calves strong enough to pop my head off.” The slight discomfort in Tony’s reply made Steve laugh, shaking his head. The morning had been eventful, but not in a bad way, and he had a feeling it would only continue to pleasantly surprise him if he took Tony up on his offer. Nat knew Tony, and Steve had no doubt that she would have kicked him out herself if she thought he was a bad influence on Peter. Despite not wanting her own children, she had always treated Peter as family, and never let danger come within a hundred feet of him. Sharon had also shown a fondness for Stark at the bar, wanting to keep him away from the paparazzi. 

“I guess I can manage that.” Steve dropped the reply slowly, trying not to let himself flush at the wide grin Tony shot back at him. 

“You’re gonna be the second coolest person your kid knows.” Tony’s sentence implied he was the first, which made Steve shrug through his laugh.

“If I didn’t know how much he admires you, I’d fight that.”

“See, I knew you had a brain in that pretty head of yours. Can’t wait to see more of it in the next couple weeks.” 

“You’re a real charmer, Stark.” Even as he said it, he knew Tony’s tease of a comment was too flirty to be an insult. Steve didn’t take it to heart; hanging out with the friends he did meant he had to have thick skin. If he was being honest, Tony would fit right in with their motley crew despite the obvious differences in lifestyles. He didn’t want to let the thought linger, knowing Tony wasn’t an orphan looking for a place to belong. Tony had his place in the world, and it probably had nothing to do with Steve’s little home in Brooklyn. He didn’t need burnt breakfasts and kitchen tables marked up with paint, glitter, and slime residue. There were probably professional chefs and properly decorated dining sets in Tony’s mansion that were far more comfortable for the other to use. 

But Steve was always a visual processor, and the images were already popping into his head. Tony sharing jabs with Bucky or joining forces with Clint to prank the others. Maybe with Tony’s help, the traps might actually get someone. He saw Tony matching wits with Sam games of chess, finally giving the airman someone to challenge him when Steve wasn’t around. Natasha would probably drag him into intellectual debates regarding third world countries and economy crisis management while using him as a test dummy for her new defense techniques. And Peter wouldn’t hesitate to make secret handshakes and codenames that would be far too complex for anyone to need, but he’d do it because it was **Tony Stark** on the other side. 

It took a moment for Steve to reel in his active imagination, pulling back from the improbable outcome to focus on the new words falling from Tony’s lips. 

“Great, so we’re both in agreement. Now let me just call my driver-” Tony’s hands shoved into his pockets before he blinked, seeming to forget the clothes that were tugging down his hips weren’t his own. Steve’s eyes flickered to the strip of tan skin that the movement exposed, the slim v keeping his attention for far too long. His manners came back after a moment, but when he lifted his gaze back up, Tony’s smile had curled into a smirk that Steve knew meant he’d been caught. Hating how easily his pale skin flushed, he forced out a cough before stepping back to slide open the patio’s door.

“You were talking about calling someone?”

“Happy,” Tony supplied. “That’s his name. Or nickname, but nobody calls him Harold. He’ll have to call you when he’s outside, so you should give me your number so I can text it to Happy. Wait, not yet; let me tell Peter the good news, then give me your number, then I’ll have Happy pick me up so I can get ready. Is three today okay? He’ll swing back and get you two later, of course.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve replied, though the arched eyebrow he received proved that Tony rarely did things he didn’t want to do.

“Once I tell Peter he gets to ride in a limo, I think we both know who's gonna win this fight. It’s cute that you think you have any chance between the two of us.” Steve knew the brush of Tony’s arm against his own was intentional when he moved back into Steve’s apartment, but it still made goosebumps rise over his skin at the contact. While being a major in art made Steve appreciate beauty, wit was always something he looked for in his partners. A combination of the two, sprinkled with a dash of confidence and an underlying soft-heart, was Steve’s kryptonite. 

And from how his friends continued to give him knowing looks and smirks through the rest of breakfast, Steve knew he was in trouble. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Steve and co.'s shenanigans. The tribe raising Peter is just a secret love of mine. And now we have musume dates! As always, please leave a kudos and comment and let me know what you think. Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Steve have a moment, while Clint and Bucky talk Hallmark movies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was 98% done for like a straight week. I don't know why it took so long to post. Sorry, enjoy!

The wing that was dedicated to Tony’s inventions was truly a marvel to behold. Steve wasn’t as invested in Stark industries and technological advances as his son, and felt unprepared for the first tour he took with Tony. The area was huge, taking up its own floor in the large musume. Despite the multiple rooms of displays, Tony barely had to look at the inventions before his lips were moving with information. He provided intricate details about the design, construction, and pieces melded together to create each new engineering masterpiece. His mind was on full display to gaze at in wonder, and Peter looked over the moon over the reveal. Their first trip to the musume had been oddly endearing, and Steve found himself looking forward to seeing Tony’s genius on display the following week. 

Before the second trip, Steve spent some long nights researching Tony’s company. He was stunned by the advancements he’d made in the medical, engineering, and scientific world in general. The only reason Tony hadn’t won more praise for his accomplishments was because of what his father and ex-partner, Obidiah Stane, had done with weapons before Tony took over the business. That, and Tony’s ‘wild years’, as each trashy tabloids list called them. Drugs, promiscuous relationships, and weapons building after the untimely death of both of his parents had become staples in Tony’s 20s, but a near-death experience in Afghanistan and a betrayal from Stane had changed Tony’s life. Now, a decade later, Tony’s machines were saving thousands of lives every day. He changed the company, and his own legacy, with hard work and dedication to his cause.

And Steve knew what was being displayed in the musume was something special.

From how quietly awestruck Peter had been during their first trip, he knew it too, but the second trip had been much different. Polite and well-mannered as he could be, Peter’s own mouth moved a mile a minute during the tour, sprouting words and theories regarding Tony’s inventions that left Steve humbly confused. Despite not fully understanding parts of their conversation, Steve’s heart was full of pride when seeing his young song go toe to toe with a certified genius without any fear or hesitation. He didn’t understand everything, as he was still young, but the parts he did follow were still far beyond impressive. Tony never looked disappointed when Peter’s face scrunched up in confusion and needed clarification over a process or explanation, taking the time to walk through the difficult parts in a child-friendly (but not intellectually demeaning) manner. 

“So you’re saying that you connected the synaptic wiring from the transmitter to create artificial intelligence that could adapt and learn depending on the owner of the program?” Though Peggy shone in most of Peter’s behaviors, Steve’s stubbornness was so clear in Peter’s features when he gazed up at Tony with a determined stare. He held back during their first tour, but this time he refused to leave each piece of art without understanding every facet of its creation, no matter how long it took. 

“You got it, underoos.” A warm hand messed up Peter’s hair, Tony sliding his free hand into the back pocket of his black slacks when watching Peter preen under the praise. 

To Tony’s credit, he seemed to be telling the truth on the patio a week ago. With each conversation they had, Tony’s grin only widened, shoulders losing any edge of awkwardness or fake friendliness that seemed to ooze from him when chatting with the musume employees. The smile that crossed his mouth when ‘talking shop’ with Peter was genuine. His lips curved and shifted with each response or suggestion from the child, adapting and reacting to the conversation. It didn’t stay stiff like it had when the musume director had gushed over him upon their arrivals both weeks they’d come to the musume. 

That fake smile reminded him of the one that Tony had tossed to Justin at the bar; even when under the influence, it seemed Tony knew to play his ‘part’. In the videos and news clippings that Steve had come across during his research, the media smile was always present. Enchanting, charming, but never filling his eyes with emotion. None of the smiles matched the one that was tossed Steve’s way over breakfast when he’d reminded Tony that he deserved to be cared for; the bitter edges of  **that** smile still made blood in Steve’s stomach bubble. Steve wondered if staring at the other man long enough to distinguish the differences between his facial expressions was creepy, but he shoved the embarrassing thought into the back of his mind when brown eyes emerged from over Tony’s sunglasses to pin him in place.

“You enjoying the piece?” 

“Oh yeah. It’s a great blender.” He knew that the invention they were talking about had nothing to do with the crappy description he gave, but it was fun to watch the cool demeanor of Tony twitch in amusement at Steve’s tease. It was a game they’d been playing since Tony had shown them his first invention the week before. Steve knew he wasn’t going to understand the complexity of the bioengineered filtration system for organic waste, and he’d jokingly tossed out that he thought it was cool ‘for an expensive coffee maker’. Tony’s face had shifted through too many emotions to count, but Peter had gotten a good laugh out of it, which seemed to make it worth it for both men. 

“Dad, that’s not even close!” Another giggle from Peter proved that he was still enjoying the joke between his mentor and his father, so Steve rolled out a sheepish smile that only showed his mischief if stared at long enough. 

“Think you can get one for our house? It’d look real swell on our counter.” 

“Depends, what do I get in return? I can be bribed with sleepovers in a  **very** comfortable bed.” Tony planned his wink when Peter had rushed forward to another invention, as he’d been doing throughout the day. It’d been the same the first trip they took to the musume. He seemed to keep his flirting clean when around younger ears, which surprised Steve. For how easily the sensual allure rolled off Tony’s tongue and body movements, he was quick to reign it in when Peter grabbed his wrist or coat jacket to pull him into another discussion. 

“Thought you could get attractive anywhere? Ask one of them to be your cuddle buddy,” Steve answered, though he allowed the hand that slipped onto his lower back to guide him over to another display. This design wasn’t as intricate, and Steve could identify the device as a medical scanner. 

“I could.” Yet from the way the sentence trailed off, Steve knew that wasn’t Tony’s gameplan. He prided himself on not being nosey, knowing people’s business was theirs to share. Tony seemed to be an exception to many of his rules, and the silence barely lasted two heartbeats before Steve spoke up.

“But?”

“None of them come with a cool kid that will talk aerodynamic thruster capacity with me.” 

Steve’s mouth felt dry when Tony’s eyes shifted away, attention drawn back to Peter’s awestruck face now gazing at some metal contraption in the next room. Once again, Tony reminded Steve of something that was still hard to wrap his brain around; he wasn’t the main goal. If anything, Steve was the bonus of Tony getting to hang out with Peter. Though dating had never really been on his top list of things to do, Steve knew how hard getting into a romantic relationship with someone was when having a child. People didn’t want to step into a role that wasn’t biologically theirs, especially when one of the parents had died. Steve had gone on a few terrible dates set up by friends, and the sympathy and slight stiffness in their bodies when Peter was first brought up never surprised Steve. It was why he’d turned so much of his attention into his work; taking on bigger tasks and more responsibility made it impossible for him to find time to date. 

But then Tony came barreling into his life, and he wasn’t sure how to process that.

“You… don’t seem the kind to like kids.” Steve tossed out the comment slowly when he leaned on the bar that kept visitors from getting too close to the exhibits. Tony’s obvious scoff proved that it wasn’t the first time he’d heard the opinion. 

“Kids are honest.” Tony’s words were thought out, meant to be fact despite the hint of bitter sharpness tainting his objective response. “None of them worry about how much money you have or what you can do with their investments. They don’t wanna hang out with you to sleep their way to the top, and they have no idea what stockholders are. PTSD is a funny way to organize the alphabet, not a disease meant to make you easy to take down. If a kid thinks you’re boring or rude, they’ll just tell you. Kids are grabby and nosey, sure. But I don’t gotta worry about one of them trying to destroy me.” 

“Like your previous partner,” Steve suggested, catching the hint of tension in the hand that’d found a home on Steve’s waist during their conversation. 

“You did your homework after our first date. Color me impressed.” The smirk was a cover for what Tony was really feeling, but it brought a flush of pink to Steve’s cheeks when he turned his attention back to the scanner in front of them. They’d never called it that when planning, and he wasn’t sure if most men would bring their son on a date with one Tony Stark. In fact, this was the first time the title was mentioned since their trips to the musume began. 

“Just wanted to know more about your company,” Steve confessed, fingers tapping on the brass of the railing outside of the display. “But it turns out that people are more interested in who you slept with ten years ago over your development on sustainable energy.” 

“The perks of being beautiful  **and** smart; you must know how that feels.” The compliment was nice, but meant to mislead, and Steve didn’t allow his embarrassment to distract him from what Tony was trying to redirect from. He seemed to get his point across with a steady look back to Tony, whose sigh was quiet when his free hand unconsciously tapped against the center of his chest. “So you know about this?” 

“Not much,” he answered, the invention keeping Tony’s heart beating still shrouded in mystery a decade later. He knew Tony’s energy research started with the arc reactor inside his chest, but he’d never shared the blueprints of his invention with anyone else. It’d been part of the reason that Stane had tried to kill him again, after his first assassination attempt fell through. The glow had been caught in some photos of Tony after the event, sometimes showing through the white of his tuxedos at galas and charity events. But nobody seemed to have seen it without the shirt, and no pictures of the actual reactor had been taken and published. 

“Yeah, makes sense. Gossip magazines don’t want to hear about shrapnel and countermeasures for terrorism. The second they realized I wouldn’t show off my new accessory, they just recycled old news about me instead.” The way that Tony let the statement roll off his tongue felt wrong to Steve. The media didn’t want to know Tony. Not the one here, who lowered his voice when explaining new concepts to Peter. Tony, who knelt down in pants more expensive than Steve’s mortgage payment to point out something underneath the robot Peter was curious about. That yes, flirted with Steve, but had enough sense to keep clean language whenever Peter was near. Whatever Tony had been before, the media goldmine his past overflowed with, was gone. They weren’t ready to accept that, but Steve could see it clear as day in how he interacted with Peter. 

“Sounds like you can’t trust anyone,” Steve said, feeling himself lean into the thumb that caressed absentmindedly down his spine.

“Happy and Pep keep me young; Rhodey Bear when he’s stateside. Bruce too, but he’s too busy saving the world to stay around New York longer than a day or two.” Though he didn’t know them all, Steve felt his stomach clench when realizing most of the people Tony had identified were employees or out of the state. He searched for something to say, but then brown eyes were on him again, bright and bold in their stare. “And you.” 

“Me?” It was a strange turn of the conversation, Steve unsure what to say at Tony’s nod. 

“You had the perfect opportunity to take advantage of me; you didn’t know exactly who I was, but you had enough information to look me up if you wanted to. I was more than willing to engage in some extracurricular activities with you that night, and you had me close to naked. One set of photos of this thing in my chest, and you could have made a pretty penny.” The line of thinking felt intrusive and cruel to Steve, and a scowl crossed his face. He knew Tony wasn’t making a personal jab at Steve’s character; he only thought like that because he’d been conditioned that way. Tony made that point clear when he stepped closer, sheepish with his scoff. “And instead, you gave me your bed and left me Gatorade so that I wouldn’t be as hungover in the morning. You didn’t even sleep in the same room as me, which I would take as a personal insult if not for your old-fashioned values-” 

“It was the right thing to do.” They’d had this discussion too many times for Steve not to roll his eyes over, though Tony ignored his response to continue.

“The point is, whether it was right or not, you didn’t do it. You didn’t see me as a cash grab or moment of fame. And that’s why I trust you.” The word sounded rough in Tony’s tone, like he wasn’t used to using it. And if the flicker of uncertainty that was only evident from Steve seeking it out wasn’t proof enough, the way Tony’s fingers twitched in front of him was. 

Steve took a moment to think over the statement, wondering the best approach for answering would be. Tony didn’t seem to take compliments well, shifting the attention or giving an answer that played up the conceit he only wore when in front of people he didn’t like. The line of right and wrong meant little to someone who had been betrayed by almost everyone he’d known, so protesting morality would be a moot point. And Tony didn’t have the belief that he was worthy of good praise. It was obvious in the way he spoke so highly of the intelligence of Pepper despite being smarter than her, or how brave Rhodey was while ignoring the courage it took to escape Afghanistan. Even when Peter managed to follow Tony’s watered-down rhetoric regarding his inventions, Tony grinned like it was more impressive than the man who created the inventions. 

“I like that,” Steve answered, letting a half-grin lift his lips when catching Tony’s surprised blink. A step closer allowed him to feel the hitched breath, and he enjoyed catching the other off guard to see the genuine emotions surfacing. The hand that once laid on the bottom of his spine now curled over his hip, keeping the lean arm snug around his waist. It didn’t leave much room between them, but in the moment, Steve still wanted to be closer. “I like that you trust me. You need people you can rely on, and I… I’d like to be one of them.”

“Hard not to trust someone who’d rescue orphaned kittens from a burning building and call it a normal Friday.” Tony’s deflection was enough to make Steve roll his eyes, but he didn’t take the bait. With courage he wasn’t sure he felt, Steve lifted his hand to graze his fingers along the side of Tony’s neck before cupping the soft skin against his palm.

“Wednesday, actually. Fridays I leave for rescuing handsome geniuses from creeps.” He refused to acknowledge the warmth in his cheeks when the result of the embarrassing reply was Tony leaning into Steve’s touch. There was still hesitancy in the movement, like a skittish cat waiting for something to come along and scare him away. 

“Make it a habit and I might try to keep you.” The nonchalant tone was overshadowed by the soft rounding of Tony’s eyes staring up at him, calloused fingertips skimming along the back of Steve’s hand. The whisper of a touch made goosebumps rise across his skin, Steve unable hide the stutter of breath he sucked in before answering.

“I might like-”

“Is that a telepresence headset, Mr. Stark!?” Peter’s loud voice surged between them like lightning, Tony nearly tumbling over the brass railing in his attempt to pull away. Steve’s quick reflexes made it easy to steady him, but the hand that settled around his waist was dislodged when Tony turned his gaze away to follow Peter’s running form.

"Tony, kid, **Tony.** " Then, with a Cheshire grin, Tony shrugged his thumb over his shoulder while walking backward. “Gotta go help my mini genius grow.” 

Steve was struck by the casual way Tony spun a possessive term into his endearment for Peter when he winked and walked away. He was sure that he wouldn’t be blamed for feeling jealousy or irritation at another claiming the kid he’d raised since birth. Tony hadn’t changed a diaper, hadn’t taken Peter to get shots or learned the hard way that the terrible twos were nothing compared to the ‘why’ stage of three. That had all been Steve. But the truth was, while watching Tony’s pace pick up to find Peter, his heart was lacking any bitter edges. Instead, it bloomed with heat, shoulders relaxing into an ease he’d never held when someone else was around Peter. His son may have looked up to Tony, but it was Tony that acted like the time spent with the young boy was a prize he’d won. 

It was then, leaning against the railing while watching the two forget the rest of the world, that Steve realized how much he was smiling.

~**~

“You’re kinda fucked.” Clint’s statement made Steve sigh, though it was Bucky that smacked him in the back of the head from his spot on the park bench. “Hey!”

“Don’t swear at a playground, idiot.” 

“It’s not like the gremlins can hear me.” Clint nodded to the jungle gym across the way, Steve catching sight of Natasha and Sam teaching Peter how to get across the monkey bars. It was rare that the group got to spend time together on a Friday, but Steve had taken vacation time for Peter’s half-day, and his friends seemed far too eager to play hookey in order to hang out with their favorite nephew. Despite being smaller than most of the kids trying, Peter flew across with ease, taking to the obstacle like fish to water. Pride swelled in his chest while watching the acrobatic feat, Peter once again showing his lack of fear in the face of the unknown. While he was sure the blind bravery would get his son into trouble when he was older (as it may have caused Steve a fight or two himself his scrawnier days), Peter’s heart was in the right place. 

“Not everyone’s deaf as Helen Keller,” Bucky sassed, Clint scoffing at the jab.

“Don’t you have to go hunt down some man, Baiken?” Steve knew of the armless video game character, and from the roll of Buck’s eyes, he picked up on the reference. Neither man shied away from talking about the other’s injuries, despite how both still struggled to accept their damaged bodies. Steve’s psychology class in college spoke of different ways people coped with traumatic situations. Clint and Bucky both used humor far too often for Steve’s taste, but he knew it was their battles to fight. He didn’t have to hide his discomfort for long, as Clint turned his attention back with Steve with a grin. “As I was saying, you’re 100% fucked.” 

“Because I hang out with you guys?” Steve asked, hoping the avoid the conversation he knew was coming. 

“Because you’re falling head over heels with your kid’s idol.” Bucky interjecting didn’t help the situation, Steve trying to keep his face from flushing at his friend’s blunt statement.

“I’m not falling for him,” he argued, wishing Sam or Nat were there to help be the voice of reason.

“You’ve been texting Tony since we got here. It’s like watching a teenager with their prom date.” Clint’s tease made him flush, slumping back on the bench while he scowled.

“It’s just about tomorrow; the last time we went Peter got really hungry toward the end, and his mood dropped. Tony must have remembered it and was just sending me a couple of choices for dinner options Pepper found close to the musume.”

“He’s paying for your dinners, too?” Bucky asked, Steve pressing his lips tightly together to hold back a groan at the tone used. 

“I told him that wasn’t necessary, but Tony says he still owes me for the pancakes and coffee-” 

“It’s like you’re reading a script from a Christmas Hallmark movie." Clint’s hands flailed around him at the claim. "Guy makes pancakes with your kid after you rescue him from harm, then he’s taking you and Peter on dates. He’s texting about dinner cause he picked up on Peter getting hangry? You guys are gonna get snowed in your next musume date or something and have to huddle for warmth!” 

With Clint distracted with his dramatics, Bucky looked too tempted to stop himself. He pushed Clint from his perch on the bench, which was far too close to the edge of the backrest. Clint, unprepared for the change in balance, smashed his face into the wood chippings that covered the playground.

“Opps.” Bucky’s grin was too wide to show any real remorse, snickering when Clint spit out his mouthful and sent him a scathing glare. Muttering under his breath, Clint pushed himself back to his feet before stomping over to Sam and Nat. Steve schooled his smile to try and show his disapproval of the Bucky’s actions.

“I can’t tell who you flirt with more, Clint or Sam.” 

“He does have a point,” Bucky diverted the conversation, eyes trailing back to the playground to watch Peter climb up the rope ladder with perfect balance. “Pete seems to be getting real chummy with the tech nerd. Wouldn't be surprised if he plans on keeping him around.” 

“We both know Tony’s offer only stands until the musume tour’s done. He’s just being a good guy and keeping his promise to a fan.” 

“That’s why you guys text daily, right?” Steve’s hand twitched around his phone at the mention. 

While he wasn’t having constant conversation with Tony throughout the week, the mention of the dinner plans wasn’t their first time texting since their second trip. Tony was a busy guy, so Steve didn’t want to bother him. But more times than not, it was Tony who reached out first, sending pictures of projects he was working on to ‘show Peter’. Steve never brought attention to how often these texts were sent during school hours, or how Steve’s lack of knowledge regarding the objects made Tony take time to explain what they were. And then those explanations would lead to more conversations that Steve wasn’t sure Tony really had the time for while he was supposed to be working on updates or approving R&D projects. One time, Tony claimed Pepper threatened to take his phone when they were going into an important shareholder’s meeting (though from the running monologue of Tony’s hatred of said meetings, it was obvious she didn’t) because he was ‘too distracted by Steve’. 

But he couldn’t say any of that.

“It’s not like that,” Steve finally answered, watching Bucky sigh and shake his head.

“Peter’s been making moon eyes at Tony from the moment he met him. Like father, like son.” 

“Bucky.” Steve didn’t have much to protest the claim, and from the way Bucky pushed forward with his thought process, it was clear he knew it. 

“You’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. Just cause you keep telling yourself that it’s temporary doesn’t mean your heart’s gonna agree. So I gotta ask; you sure you know what you’re doing here?” 

“I…” Steve’s protest died before it came out, rolling the question through his mind as he fell silent. Lying to Bucky was like lying to himself, and he was pretty garbage at both. Especially when his heart skipped a few beats every time Tony’s warm smile flashed through his mind. 

“Daddy!” Steve glanced up to Peter hanging upside down from the monkey bars, arms waving around with a smile that covered his cheeks in brightness. It wasn’t hard to guess who taught him the trick (as Clint hung beside him, Nat smirking and Sam covering his face from frowning mothers walking by), though Steve was sure Peter would have learned how to do it himself sooner or later. His brain was always evolving, needing to learn more and absorb any knowledge he could get. He gave his own wave, smiling when seeing the little body vibrate in excitement. And it was enough to give Steve an answer.

“I’m making him happy,” Steve answered, glancing to Bucky’s stoic look with a small smile. “And that’s all that matters.” 

“Your happiness matters too.” Bucky’s words were followed by him standing from the bench. A rough hand on Steve's head ruffled his hair the same way he’d seen the man do to Peter so many times. “Remember that, punk.” 

“I got it, I got it.” He finally batted Bucky’s hand away with a laugh and stood, softening his voice when catching Bucky’s gaze. “Really, I got it.”

“Good. Now let’s go show your kid how to rule the jungle gym.” Both men grinned before Bucky threw his arm over Steve’s shoulder, leading him to the playground. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was 100% supposed to be a one shot, by the way. It's probably got 2-3 more chapters left. So, I hope you're enjoying! Comments and Kudos are always helpful <3 Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets sick, and Tony comes to the rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so... yeah. I took longer than I thought I would. I apologize. I really wanna get this story wrapped up soon because I have a big multi-chapter Stony story I wanna do, so let's hope I can focus! This was my fav chapter to write yet, so I hope you enjoy! <3

The one thing that Steve wished Peter hadn’t gotten from him was his weak immune system.

“I’m okay.” The flushed cheeks on his son’s face proved to Steve that he was anything but okay. The fever was already over 100, and the little coughs that filled Peter’s room proved how under the weather he was. 

“Sure looks like you’re down for the count.” Steve offered the purple medication to Peter, making sure his son drank the entire dose. The first indication he’d gotten that Peter was starting to get sick had been his lack of appetite. After running around for hours on the playground the night before, Bucky had bought the group pizza (which Steve swore was more him trying to get back on Clint’s good side than anything else). Peter had declined to eat. He didn’t put up a fight when Steve suggested he go to bed early, despite always wanting to spend as much time up as he could when his aunt and uncles came over to visit. By the time Steve had pulled the covers over Peter, he was out like a light. Most parents would consider their kid going to bed early a blessing.

But Steve knew the signs too well. 

“But, the musume, and Mr.Stark-” Peter’s voice gave out when he coughed again, Steve placing the medicine cup onto the tray by the bed. He leaned over to re-tuck Peter’s blankets before he stood, hand shoving into his pocket to pull out his phone. 

“Why don’t you get some more sleep and I’ll give Tony a call? I think he’d rather have you fully listening to what he’s saying instead of sneezing all over his inventions.” He really didn’t need to do much convincing; Peter’s eyes were already falling closed before he even finished his offer. For a moment, his chest clenched with discomfort at the sight, the past nipping at the edges of his mind. But he shoved down the feeling and pushed out of the room to focus on his task. 

“A phone call before our date? Someone misses me.” Tony’s smooth voice helped tamper down Steve’s anxiety, the vice grip around his heart releasing. 

“You and Clint are definitely cut from the same cloth,” Steve answered, moving into the kitchen to check his supplies. Peter’s appetite would stay low as long as the fever was prevalent, but Steve wanted to get something with substance into him when he woke up from his nap. 

“What are you, eighty? I feel like I need a hip replacement from how old that saying is.” Tony’s disgust was palpable through the phone, but Steve had been getting used to ignoring it. 

“My ma used to say it,” he said, distracted from the conversation when shoving the phone between his ear and shoulder to search deeper in the cabinets. 

“Oh, I really like the way you say ‘ma’.” Steve’s head smacked into the top of the shelf from Tony’s underlying tone, a purr to his words sending heat racing up Steve’s thighs. “You sound so Brooklyn, just the type of guy your parents warned you about.” 

“Pretty sure that was you,” Steve answered weakly, rubbing the wounded spot while continuing his search. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Most parents just wanted my autograph.” And from Tony’s famous background, Steve wouldn’t have been surprised if he was telling the truth. “But unless this phone call gets a lot more informative or dirty, I’m going to start dropping stars on my yelp review for our date.” 

“That’s actually what I’m calling about. I’ve gotta cancel our musume trip.” 

“Is everything okay?” The flirtatious tone that lived in Tony’s voice was gone, and Steve blinked at the obvious concern that took its residency. It was surprising how immediate Tony’s mind switched gears, and Steve mentally scolded himself for assuming the newly formed relationship between Peter and Tony didn’t mean something to both sides. 

“Peter’s sick, and I don’t want to make it any worse with the busy weeks ahead of us. Nothing ruins the holidays like a fever and runny nose.” Another push of miscellaneous objects in the cabinet resulted in a scowl, Steve disliking the lack of food options for Peter’s current state. Had he really forgotten to replace their soup supply after the last wave of sickness hit the house? He faintly remembered giving some to Clint when he’d managed to snag whatever had last plagued Peter. It’d been during a busy time at Steve’s job, so it was possible he’d simply chucked it onto a to-do list that he never got to. 

“Heard the flu’s been hitting New York pretty hard this year, so I’m not surprised.” 

“I’m sorry for cancelling so late,” Steve said, though he could picture Tony’s dismissive hand wave when he heard a snort through the phone. 

“I practically live an hour behind schedule for everything. Honestly, I think Pep’s getting jealous that the only meeting time I can keep is for you and Peter.” It was a blaze compliment that he wasn’t even sure Tony knew he was dropping, but it still made the edge of Steve’s lips quirk into a smile. “You two need anything? I could snag a hazmat suit-”

“If you’re in your office-”

“My lab, actually, though the office isn’t far.” Tony’s need to correct Steve made him roll his eyes, though it didn’t stop his train of thought. 

“Either way, I’m not going to ask for anything. That’s on the other side of the city.” 

“Oh darling, distance would never keep me from seeing your handsome face.” 

“We’ll be fine,” Steve answered through a flush, wondering how Tony was able to roll out so many flirty comments without a hint of embarrassment. “I may have to see if Buck can swing by the store for some soup after he gets out of work, but we’ll survive without it.” 

“Doesn’t he get out late on the weekends?” Tony picking up on his friend’s schedules shouldn’t have been endearing, but it proved that Tony listened. Even when Steve babbled about pointless facts or complaints through their text messages, Tony heard him. He should have been too busy running a business and the hundreds of other responsibilities that fell on Tony Stark’s shoulders. But that wasn’t how he operated, surprising Steve again. “Don’t bother Buckeroo, I’ve got soup duty.”

“That’s not necessary,” Steve started, shaking his head while he pulled out from the cabinet. 

“Not every date has to be going out somewhere; staying home can be nice.” 

“Because snot and vomit screams romance.” The laugh on the other side of Steve’s phone was soft but warm, and showed no signs of disgust from Steve’s description. Sighing, he pressed his free hand to his forehead, rubbing down his face while he spoke. “I get the feeling that you’re already on your way.”

“Did you know there’s an app that lets you set up grocery orders and you can pick it up without stepping foot in the store?”

“Tony-”

“They can have your order done in twenty minutes if you throw a bunch of money at them. It’s a Christmas miracle.” 

“Tony!” Yet even through his scolding, he felt his lips stretch wide from his smile. It seemed that Tony could hear it through the phone from the pleased hum he gave in return. 

“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.” The phone hung up after the endearment, Steve taking a slow breath before pulling it away from his ear. Tony was like a tornado, barreling through any conversation or conflict with a steadfast confidence that left emotional devastation in his path. Steve saw how it could be a negative if Tony pushed himself too hard to try and save the world. Small conversations had proven that Tony had no sense of understanding of a sleep schedule or proper meal plan. If not for Pepper, Steve wasn’t sure Tony would ever leave his lab. 

_ He’ll leave to see you and Peter, _ Bucky’s voice snickered in his head, and Steve wondered if it was normal to hear his friend’s voices as his conscious. 

Knowing that Tony would be there soon, Steve shoved his phone into his pocket and tried to distract himself from the butterflies waging war in his stomach. He focused himself on tidying up the house, which always looked far too “lived in” for company. Outside their home, Peter and Steve were tidy and put together. Their clothes were always clean, hygiene dealt with daily, and nobody could say that Peter went for anything regarding nutritional needs. But Steve’s hectic schedule and Peter’s affinity for dropping things wherever he was distracted by something else tended to leave their home in disarray. And yes, Steve knew that Tony had already been in their home once before, but it’d been dark and he’d been disoriented. It was unlikely that he would have noticed anything short of an elephant stampede that night with how his eyes stayed glued to Steve, seeming to undress him with his heated gaze-

_ Which he couldn’t help because he was drugged  _ Steve scolded himself, happy to hear his own voice this time. He felt his stomach twist in guilt when remembering what Tony had looked like in his bed. Steve wanted to forget the allure that Tony wore like armor when sliding his fingers through his hair, the lowered voice he used to try and seduce Steve to strip. It’d been weeks since then, and Tony hadn’t made any real offers to try and sleep with him again. Steve shouldn’t be lingering on the phantom sensation of Tony’s warm breath on his lips, the pretty brown of his eyes disappearing from desire. Especially because Tony was more than just a body to keep his sheets warm for a night, and he was far more than any media outlet or news article gave him credit for. He was his son’s hero. He was a man who preferred oversized clothes and making pancakes over dressing in suits and going to expensive galas. He was so intelligent, but humbled by a six year old’s curious conversations. He was confident to the point of being cocky, yet never once thought of using his power to challenge Pepper. Sometimes he was called self-centered, but he was currently heading over to Steve’s house, halfway across the city, to bring soup to a sick child simply because he could. Tony was a puzzle that Steve wanted to fully piece together, yet was scared of what he’d find once completing it. 

One hour after the phone call, Steve’s head perked at the doorbell chiming through the home. He tossed the dirtied paper towel he was using into the trash before he moving to the front door, refusing to stop in front of the mirror. He didn’t need to look special, because he wasn’t what Tony was here for. He tried to quiet his heart with a slow breath after reaching for the doorknob, relaxing his shoulders before opening the door. But the preparation was pointless when catching sight of Tony, who looked amazing. He didn’t dress up, but the worn out AC/DC shirt hugged him enough to show the blue glow in his chest. Steve made sure not to let his stare linger on the light, which turned his eyes down to the jeans painted over Tony’s thighs. They were smudged with spots of oil and slightly ripped, proving that Tony had probably been in the middle of creating something when he’d received Steve’s call. He hadn’t bothered to change, hadn’t thought to put on his ‘Tony Stark’ armor, because he wanted to help Peter. 

And he still looked stunning.

“Hello handsome, come here often?” The purr in Tony’s voice made warmth run along Steve’s spine. 

“Not as much as I should be, despite it being my house.” He opened the door wider and stepped back, silently granting Tony permission to enter. 

“Easy solution; marry me and quit your job. This must be why they call me a genius.” It was a joke, but it still made Steve scoff while Tony smirked and winked. 

“I’d go stir crazy without my work,” Steve answered honestly, knowing he couldn’t enjoy most of his vacations without getting the urge to go back halfway through. 

“I could help get rid of some of that energy for you.” There was a deliberate edge to Tony’s voice as his eyes skimmed down his body, and Steve had to fight to keep his toes from curling into the carpet when feeling the punch of desire hit into his stomach. 

Again, his memory flashed back to the night they met, the heat of Tony’s hand when he ran it up the back of his neck to sink into his hair. He couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath, which Tony picked up on from how quickly his eyes glanced to Steve’s face (they may have been lingering somewhere near Steve’s belt, which only added to the pleasant hum under his skin). A moment of charged air crackled between them, Steve’s brain stuttering through appropriate answers. Each one felt too heavy on his tongue to say. Instead, it rolled out from his mouth, and Tony’s attention darted down to watch it slide over his chapped lips. The cold air from outside did nothing to cool the heat between them, Steve’s fingers feeling as if they could dent the brass of the doorknob from how tightly he held onto it. He wanted to let go, but knowing that Tony’s lean waist was close enough to easily wrap his palm around, he kept his hand still. 

Surprisingly, it was Tony who took a slow breath, blinking a few times before stepping into the house. 

“But first, the kid.” Tony swung two bags into Steve’s chest, the groceries shifting enough for Steve to realize that there weren’t cans inside the plastic. Confused, he peered into the bags to see the plethora of vegetables bumping against each other in his grasp. 

“What’s with all the-” It took him a moment to realize that Tony was now moving through the living room toward the kitchen. He hurried to close the front door before following after him, making sure not to drop any items on the way. 

“For the soup. Where do you keep your cutting boards?” Tony washed his hands while he glanced at the display of knives on Steve’s counter, which were used less than Steve wanted to admit. Stunned, Steve paused in the kitchen doorway, catching his jaw before it fell on the floor with a cough. 

“Tony, I don’t expect you to make my kid soup from scratch.” 

“Please tell me you weren’t going to give him that cheap imitation they shove in a can.” 

“Peter likes chicken stars,” Steve answered. 

“It’s chicken-flavored salt water, of course a six year old likes it.” Tony gave a disgruntled snort before yanking open another cupboard. It was amusing to watch Tony try and figure out his kitchen, remembering the mess he’d created when making breakfast weeks ago. Before, he’d had Peter to help guide him to the right items. Now, Steve could almost see Tony’s wheels turning as he assessed the items in each shelf to determine the probability of what he needed being there. He wasn’t sure if Tony knew the slight spark of satisfaction that brightened his eyes whenever he pulled another tool out of its hiding spot, lining the cooking utensils up on the kitchen island. It was cute seeing Tony fumble around in his kitchen, and Steve leaned against the doorway to watch the endearing scene in front of him.

“I eat three cans whenever I get sick.” 

“You are a heathen.” Steve had to laugh at the crinkled nose and sound of disgust that dripped in Tony’s tone. Ignoring him, Tony glanced once more at his findings before he crooked his finger toward Steve. “Come over here and wash off the celery. Carrots, too; I’ll show you how to cut them while the oil gets hot.”

Steve carefully placed Tony’s bags onto the counter by the sink, pulling out the mentioned vegetables and running them under the faucet. Tony’s eyebrow was arched in skepticism when grabbing the offered ingredients from Steve, dropping them onto the cutting board. He made sure Steve’s eyes were on his hands before he chopped the first stalk of celery in small sections, proving this wasn’t the first time working with the ingredients. Tony’s fingers moved the knife with ease that came from years of practice, which surprised Steve. With the overwhelming amount of money and non-existent time, he was sure Tony would have hired a personal chef to make his meals. Maybe he did, but it was clear that Tony enjoyed being in the kitchen. He looked in his element while he moved, and Steve’s fingers twitched in the desire to run over the slim hips and crowd Tony against the counter. 

“See how small they are? Do the same with the carrots, then dump them into the pot over there. Got it, handsome?” Tony’s lips quirked in a smirk when he bumped his hip against Steve’,s handing him the knife before moving back to the bag of groceries. 

“I think I know how to cut food,” Steve answered, making sure to memorize the mentioned size of pieces before beginning his task. 

“I don’t know if I can trust you to boil water at this point. You’re lucky I’m not making you do the onions. Wouldn’t want to make my date cry.” Tony pulled out the mentioned vegetable and moved it under the faucet, Steve finishing the stalk of celery before running the words through his mind again. 

“Onions in chicken noodle soup? What kind of recipe are you making?” Steve asked, curious enough to peek into the second bag of food. He knew most of the items, though he didn’t think the mixture of cloves and bay leaves screamed soup. 

“It’s an italian recipe. My…” The pause of the water only emphasized the quiet when Tony’s words cut off, Steve pulling back from the bag to see the softer rounding of Tony’s eyes staring down at the peeled onion. “My mother taught me it when I was younger. It’s been passed down from the Carbonell lineage for ages. Whenever someone’s sick, it’s our go-to remedy. It smells strong, but it’ll clear out any illness Peter’s got and then some.”

“Oh, Tony, you don’t-” Whatever Steve planned to say was cut off when Tony waved his hand and moved away from the sink, dropping the onion to the second cutting board. 

“No worries, sweetheart. Mom’s been gone for a while, and I’m not as bent up about it as I was when I was young. Plus, it’s good to brush some of the dust off my mental cookbook. Not that I’m doubting my culinary expertise, because I could cook Gordon Ramsey into my bed. I just haven’t made this in-” The sharp knife that Tony had snagged to dice the onions stopped for a heartbeat, but only someone watching as intently as Steve would have noticed the misstep. “It’s been a bit.”

“I bet,” Steve whispered, reading between the lines without Tony’s guidance. “Peter’s going to love it, I’m sure.” 

“He’s never going to want your Cambell’s garbage again.” Tony spoke with bravado, but never let his eyes pull back from the focused preparation of ingredients. Steve stayed silent at the words, letting his hip lean against the island. Tony’s lips didn’t still for long, and without prompting, he begun to monologue the steps in creating his family’s recipe. Steve tried to keep up with the words, but watching Tony’s body slowly unwind with each step he performed left his mind wandering. 

How long had it been since Tony had someone in his life that he’d be willing to cook for? Maybe his friends, if they were able to come back from whatever country they were in. But even then, it wasn’t something that would probably be on the forefront of his mind. Tony would wine and dine his loved ones with fancy restaurants or their favorite meals, because that was how he showed he cared. He could import any style of food from all around the world. Hell, he could probably take them to where the food originated from if he really cared for them. Tony never seemed to hold back expenses when it came to showering those that mattered with affection. 

But all the articles and interviews Steve had read over (“That’s so creepy, Stevie” “Shut up.”) had never once spoken of this. The photo shoots didn’t capture the warmth sprouting in Tony’s expression when testing his broth, missed the flushed cheeks that splotched red from the warmer temperature when stirring the steaming pot’s contents. Maybe this side of him, the one that was careful with the cutting of the onion but used simple instinct when tossing seasonings into the bubbling soup, wasn’t one he felt others would want to see. The only reason that he was showing Steve was because of Peter. It seemed when it came to his son, Tony was always willing to put his culinary skills to use in order to take care of him. 

And really, was there anything Tony  **wouldn’t** do for Peter?

“Open up.” 

“Huh?” Steve blinked when the steam from the spoon under his nose dragged him out of his own thoughts. Tony’s hand was cupped just under it, catching the drops that rolled under. Dumbstruck by Tony’s close proximity, his lips parted, and Tony grinned with a knowing look before sliding the spoonful into Steve’s mouth. The burst of flavor that ran over Steve’s tongue caught him off guard, and his stomach fluttered with pleasure from the taste. A soft noise slipped from his mouth, and Steve felt his pale skin blush when realizing how low the noise had been. His response was answered with a pleased hum from Tony, who rocked on his feet and widened his smirk. 

“If all I had to do to get you to moan was make some soup, we could had been naked and sated weeks ago.” Despite his blatant flirting, Tony pulled back, taking the spoon with him to the bowls on the counter. Three were set up, meaning Tony wanted the trio to share the experience together. It was domestic, like Tony had imprinted himself into the kitchen, and Steve’s heart sputtered to a stop at the scene. “So do you have a rule against underoos eating in bed, or-”

Steve felt his feet moving without thought. His fingers found the back of Tony’s bare arm, pausing the conversation. Goosebumps rose over the warm skin when Steve trailed his touch softly down the wiry muscle of Tony’s bicep and forearm, finally resting on the wrist that held a bowl of soup. His words were stuck in his throat, unsure how to fully express his appreciation and admiration for the silent man standing in front of him. He swallowed and talked slow, thumb rubbing over the warm flesh under his touch. 

“Thank you. Really, Peter thinks the world of you, and you’ve never let him down. I know I had been hesitant first, probably overprotective of Peter getting attached. Maybe…” He couldn’t keep his eyes on Tony’s broad grin, turning his attention to the difference of skin tones between their hands. “It’s always just been us and our little tribe. And the others, they’re great. Peter’s never gone wanting for love. Nat’s a Godsend for explaining things to him when I get overwhelmed, and Clint can make him smile no matter how many times he falls off his bike. Sam really keeps Peter open and honest about his emotions. Bucky’s taught him to stand up for himself without having to throw a punch. They’re all a part of us, they’ve become the family we lost when Peggy passed away. But you...you connect with him in a way I don’t think anyone else could.

“And that was pressure I never intended to place on your shoulders. You’re a busy man, and I’m sure Ms.Potts has cursed the day I found you in the bar. I distract you at work and Peter takes up your free time on Saturdays with conversation I can’t hope to follow. You’ve pulled strings with the musume and even this, with what you’re doing here now-this past month has been really nice. Having you here with us, I won’t ever forget that.” His voice paused when the thought of how much Tony had grown on him echoed in his mind. A month had gone by, but to Steve, it felt like years since Tony had stumbled into his life, burrowing into Steve’s side and refusing to come out. Truthfully, Steve didn’t want him gone. But he also knew the reality of it all; Tony couldn’t run away from his responsibilities to be with them forever. It didn’t seem like many men could. He took another breath, trying to slow down his mind, making sure his words came out clear enough for Tony to read between the lines. “I understand more than Peter how charitable you’ve been with your time. I know it ain’t gonna last forever, but what you’ve given us, it’s...thank you, Tony. You don’t know how much this means for both of us. And even if you can’t keep your promise to Peter to take him on the last leg of the tour because of today, I won’t hold that against you.” 

For a moment, the kitchen was flooded with silence while Steve waited for Tony’s answer. It felt like years passed with his heavy heartbeat slamming between his ears, ready to jump from his chest at Tony’s elongated pause. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to spill so many of his thoughts out in that moment, when he’d been so meticulous in keeping some secrets close to his chest. But it’d been too much to see Tony there, looking like he belonged under the low light of the kitchen, and Steve’s mouth had probably gotten him into hot water again-

“You sell yourself any shorter, and they’re not gonna let you on roller coasters.” Tony’s response was quirky but soft, a tap to Steve’s jaw making him turn his attention back to Tony’s face. The brown eyes spoke with intensity, a sliver of irritation washed out by fondness that made the back of Steve’s neck hot. “ First of all, underoos will get his final trip to the museum with me. Let’s just settle that right now because that’s the most important thing. And here’s a thought, hot shot. All this ‘charity’ I’m giving you and Pete, this ‘burden’ I’m carrying hanging out with you? Could you stop being self-deprecating long enough to flip the script? Because being a part of your world isn’t a hardship for me. I like your kid. I like  **you** . Not as much as Pete, but you can’t talk aerodynamics over lucky charms. And Pep doesn’t want to kill you; she thinks you’re great for me. Sometimes she hides my phone and uses you as an incentive to get me to sign paperwork. And it’s total blackmail, extortion almost, but I do it. I sit in that stuffy office with her and those old dinosaurs for hours on end because I know getting to see you two is going to be worth it. She might want me to keep some of my personal fantasies about you to myself-”

“Tony,” Steve pushed out through a laugh, unsure how to take the mischievous grin aimed his way.

“You’re really handsome when you laugh.” Tony dropped the bowl back to the counter before flipping his hand, and Steve felt his breath hitch in his throat when fingers entangled between his. “Then again, you’re always handsome.” 

“You may have told me that before.” The words came out without hesitation, and Steve took a moment to realize he’d leaned in closer to Tony. It didn’t seem like that other minded, resting his back on the edge of the counter and allowing Steve’s larger body to box him in. The pose felt more intimate than it had seconds before, their joined hands pressed between their chests. Steve’s thumb brushed the edge of metal under the shirt, and he felt Tony’s breath catch in response. “Sorry, did that hurt?”

“No,” Tony answered before running his free hand up the back of Steve’s neck. “Just not used to someone else touching it. Well, Pepper did once when I went into cardiac arrest and she had to shove her hand into the chest cavity-”

“She did what?!” Steve almost pulled back at the sudden bombshell of information, his mind running a mile a minute. How dangerous was the glowing device in Tony’s chest? How deep did the cavity go? Why had Tony nearly died from the thing meant to keep him alive, and just how often did Pepper have to save her boss by  **shoving her hand in his chest-**

“Okay, stop that. I am not cockblocking myself here.” A sharp tug on his neck made Steve grunt and lean forward, breaching the final breath of space between him and Tony. Lips brushed his own, halting any thoughts except one; Tony’s mouth was very soft. Just the hint of connection between them sent fire rushing into his veins, and he wanted to fully experience everything Tony had to offer. Steve didn’t hide his shiver when Tony spoke again, eyes showing no sign of backing down. “I’ll answer whatever question that pretty head of yours has later, but unless you pull away right now, I’m not leaving this kitchen without a kiss.”

It didn’t take a genius to know how to respond to the tempting offer. 

“Then make it quick; the soup’s gettin’ cold.” It was cheeky with a little more Brooklyn drawl than he normally let out, but the way Tony’s pupils expanded before they closed paired well with the low groan rumbling over Steve’s lips.

“God, that accent’s just not fair-” 

Then Tony was kissing him, hands clutching his shoulder and neck like Steve was the only thing keeping him upright. Hot desire lined every sweep of Tony’s tongue when he pushed into Steve’s mouth, seeming determined to capture any hint of the soup left from before. The pleasure that curled in Steve’s stomach when he grasped Tony’s hips and yanked him forward was loud and growing. Tony’s spine shivered under his touch when fingers slipped below the shirt, pressing hot skin against his palm. It was a way to keep control of the situation, for Steve to drag Tony closer when he let his tongue explore the mouth that had captivated him weeks ago. Tony’s whole body melted into him without a fight, but he was never passive in their kiss. There was emotion in each exchange, enticing Steve to tilt his head and deepen their connection. 

The slow way that Tony unwound any whisper of doubt from Steve’s mind with his lips and tongue was deadly. Neither seemed to care about air or lung capacity, chasing the other’s lips whenever one rocked backwards to sneak a breath. It was a surreal moment that refused to end, fire igniting through his body when Tony’s teeth dragged over his lower lip with a moan. Hands didn’t stay idle, and Steve felt creative fingers cataloging every divot on his back when they chased his shirt up over his skin. Their hips weren’t shy in meeting, and he could feel how interested Tony was in him. A slow grind made Steve’s hand tighten on the waist in his grasp, and he felt a possessive curl of pleasure run through him with how easy Tony parted his legs, letting him step between to feel the heat between them. 

“Fuck,” Tony gasped out when Steve left his mouth, dragging his kisses over the stubbled jaw. Hands slipped lower, feeling the swell of Tony’s ass before finding the back of his thighs. He hiked Tony higher up, canting their hips together in a lust-induced rhythm. Steve enjoyed the rough texture of Tony’s beard brushing against his bruised lips. Tony’s neck was much softer, and more of it was exposed when he groaned and tilted his head back for Steve to explore. 

“Tony.” He spoke the other man’s name like a prayer against his throat, letting the vibrations challenge the heavy pulse just underneath. Fingers dug into his shoulders under his shirt when Steve sucked the skin into his mouth, the tip of his tongue wanting to make its mark. Everything felt electrified between them, each hitch of their hips and slide of skin tightening the coil of desire inside Steve’s stomach. It’d been years since he’d felt so connected to someone, and he hadn’t realized how much he needed Tony’s hands clutching his bare skin until now. Another strong roll of Tony’s hips against him had Steve pushing back, overpowering him and keeping him flush against the island counter. For once, Steve wanted to take care of Tony, wanted to give him every ounce of affection that he deserved from this world-

But the movement jarred Tony’s lower back into the bowls, and the noise of the porcelain clinking together froze them. Heavy breathing felt amplified when both tried to catch their breath, Steve’s lips slowly pulling from the pinkened spot on Tony’s neck to look at him. It would have been obvious to anyone who walked by what the two had been doing, with the rumpled shirts and mussed hair. Tony’s lips were plump from the biting and kissing, and Steve had to take a slow breath to keep from kissing him again. He glanced back to the bowls from before to settle his hot blood, his hand pulling out of Tony’s shirt. 

He didn’t want to ruin the moment, when it had been the first real connection he’d had in years. There was a part of his mind that wanted to ignore his responsibilities, to forget for a few minutes and submerge himself in everything he’d tasted on Tony’s lips. The beautiful man was still between his arms, elbows resting on the edge of the counter while he tried to catch his breath. Tony was practically draped over his lap, the backs of his thighs pressed over his own from their sensual grinding. Both were aroused, with hints of electricity still humming under their skin. Steve took one long look at Tony, trying to memorize him in the light he wasn’t sure he’d get to see again. 

“Peter,” Steve said, knowing the one word was the most efficient way to douse the flame. He took his time to pull away and allow Tony to let him get his bearings. The quick mind of Tony made it easy for him to do so, but he still looked a bit dazed when he took his full weight back onto his feet. 

“Right, Peter.” There was no irritation or bitterness in Tony’s reply, which Steve wouldn’t have blamed him for. Instead, Tony tossed out a half-grin, a gentler touch running over the curve of Steve’s cheek. He traced what Steve knew was a blush, which only raised the heat in his face. “You’re looking a feverish yourself. You going to be okay, soldier?” 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Steve muttered with far less irritation than he wanted to use. 

“I am insulted that you’d ever think so lowly of me. You’re supposed to be my knight in shining armor.”

“Since when do you need anyone to save you?”

“Not the point,” Tony dismissed easily, trying to pull the conversation his way with a tender swipe of his thumb along Steve’s lower lip. “You’re my hero. Or are you telling me you take  **any** man to your bed and strip him down?” 

The wiggle in Tony’s eyebrows proved he knew the double meaning of his words, and Steve’s back lost the tension that had built up over his prepared rejection. 

“I’m not talking about this again.” He’d already dealt with Clint and Bucky’s inseccant ribbing, which both men in the kitchen knew. Tony’s genuine laugh made him smile through his own embarrassment. Then, without much warning, Tony curl forward into Steve’s chest. A sudden shift in his weight made Steve wrap an arm around Tony back to steady him. He could feel a warm breath roll over his collarbone when Tony pressed his forehead to his shoulder, seeming content to be in Steve’s care. Slowly, Steve lifted his other arm, shifting the hold from a steadying grip to a warm embrace. Holding Tony felt surreal in the quiet of the kitchen, but Steve didn’t want to pull away. The earlier frantic desire had simmered down, leaving the afterglow of intimacy in its cooling embers. 

“If Peter likes my soup, I’m banning all Progressive from your house.” The words were soft when spoken against his skin, and Steve let his cheek rest against the top of Tony’s head with a huff of affection.

“And when one of us gets sick?”

“Obviously you’ll call me and I’ll make more.”

“Just like that, huh?” Steve asked quietly, wishing his voice had kept the dry tone instead of dipping into something he didn’t want to think about. 

“Just like that. But I am a businessman, of course. Exchanges will be needed for my services.” Tony’s words vibrated against his chest, not shying away from the physical contact between them. 

“I don’t exactly have the kind of money that’d made a dent in your bank account for soup deliveries.” Steve played along, feeling Tony’s smirk against his collarbone.

“No need for cash; kisses seem like acceptable payment. So long as the contract is acceptable to both parties involved, of course. Further discussions can be had when my favorite child genius is back to full health. My people will call your people. Which is just really Pep and Miss Romanoff making fun of their ‘hopeless boys’ over wine and cheese I somehow pay for, but you get my point. It’s an option for a more permanent partnership, if you’re interested.” There was a current under his bold statement, despite how flippantly he presented it. The line they’d been dancing around, the one they’d stepped over minutes before, was just as easy to cross back over to. But Tony, in his own convoluted way, was saying he didn’t want to turn back. 

Tony wouldn’t lift his head to meet Steve’s gaze, determined to bury it into the crevice of Steve’s neck instead. It was almost cute. The contradiction of words and body language was so  **Tony** , that Steve had to close his eyes at the wave of affection for the other man. It was hard not to believe that Tony knew what he was saying, even if it struggled to register in Steve’s reality-based mind. His heart had no problem taking the hope that always lingered, reminding Steve that it took two to kiss as long as they had. Tony was interested, and attracted, to Steve. For how long didn’t matter, at the moment. 

“Hope your people call mine soon, cause a ‘partnership’ with you sounds really nice.” He tightened his arms around Tony for a second before pulling away, taking one look at Tony’s widened eyes before glancing to grab two of the warm bowls behind him. “But for now, lets go wake up Peter; he’ll be happy to see you.” 

“Who isn’t? I’m a delight.” Steve was sure Tony wink’s while grabbing his own bowl was over exaggerated and meant to help hide his previous slip of real emotion. Like somehow, it would cover the slight discoloration in Tony’s face. He took a moment to bask in the idea of getting Tony Stark, the well known playboy heartthrob to most, to blush over the idea of them dating. He knew he was attractive, but Tony could have anyone he really wanted with a grin and a wink. And yet here he was with Steve, in his lived in home serving soup to a snot-filled kid, flushed about them being  **more** than friends. The whole afternoon had just been surreal. 

But then Steve shook his head to bring him back down to earth, leading Tony down the hall to Peter’s bedroom while his focus returned to his son. 

They had things they needed to talk about, but for now, it was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kisses are always nice and I enjoyed this one a lot. And now we've got confirmed feelings. Look at our boys being mature and shit. There's probably one chapter left for this story, hoping to get it out in the next couple weeks, so let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date, a secret, and a realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I am a terrible person for taking so long. Really I always get like 90% of the chapter done and then I'm like 'ehhh lets wait 5 months'. Next story I do I'm not posting until I'm like, 9 chapters ahead! I do have a new Stony story in the works for the summer, so keep an eye out for that! 
> 
> Please enjoy this final chapter of this fun story, and I am so thankful for all of you that read it and continued to support me. <3
> 
> Also this chapter is close to 30 pages long (which is like double the other ones) so I apologize.

“I’m not sure about this.” Steve’s fourth choice of shirt looked too tight around his chest when he placed his hands on his hips, though he knew it was the main reason it’d been chosen. 

“You’re not sure about anything.” Sam’s dry response from behind him made Steve sigh, turning away from the mirror to focus his scowl toward his friend. Sam wasn’t alone on the bed; Bucky looked like the cat that ate the canary when he let out a low wolf-whistle. 

“Look at you, Stevie. Stark’s gonna have a hard time keeping his hands off you at dinner. Hope you picked a place with a long tablecloth just in case.” 

“Laugh it up, Bucky. When’s the last time you got ready for a date?” Because that was what it was, officially. It had taken a few weeks (which Peter and Steve’s friends didn’t mind, since it meant time for them to get to know Tony) and schedule adjustments, but it was finally happening. Tony had always joked about their trips to the museum being dates. They'd even managed to sneak the final leg of Peter's tour in before Christmas and New Years, which had been a small miracle. But this was different. Peter would be staying behind with Sam and Bucky while Steve and Tony went out for dinner. There would be no interruptions from the young, inquisitive mind. No reason for Steve to pull away from Tony’s allure, from his charming smile and soft lips-

“I’ll be on my date as soon as you get your ass outta here.” Bucky didn’t look ashamed for his loud proclamation when he draped his arm around Sam’s shoulders, snickering at the dry stare and arched eyebrow Sam gave in reply.

“This is not a date, Barnes. This is babysitting so Steve can get laid.”

“I’m not having sex with Tony.” Steve’s protest seemed ignored by the two men sitting on his bed, making him sigh before turning back to the mirror while they bickered. 

“What are you talking about? We’re getting pizza delivered, which is dinner. We’re gonna watch  _ Return of the King _ when Pete goes to bed, so there’s the movie. It hits all the criteria of a date.” Steve rolled his eyes at Bucky’s explanation, knowing this line far too well for someone who didn’t actually date Bucky. He’d been using the same tactic since they were in high school. Bucky had always been a flirt, and though he rarely showed his old tricks in public places or with strangers, he still could toss out a charming smile and wink for his closer friends. His main targets were always Sam and Clint, though Steve couldn’t tell which one he was more serious about. Maybe both; open relationships were a part of the culture now, right? It wasn’t something Steve could see himself being a part of, but Bucky had changed a lot of his thoughts on the world since coming back from his injury. 

“A date requires both parties to be interested. Do I look interested to you?” 

“You are in bed with me.” 

“I could push you out.” Sam wouldn’t, because he was the nice one of their group, but the threat at least sounded realistic from his warning tone. 

“Listen, just because I’m not rich enough to take you to some fancy dinner like Stevie’s boyfriend-”

“Wait, what?” Steve nearly rammed into his dresser when turning to face Bucky and Sam, managing to swing away from the collision at the last moment. It made him stumble a step, but from Bucky’s wide grin and Sam’s low chuckle, both picked up on it. “Tony’s-he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Well he should be; have you seen the way you two act when we hang out? Gross.” Bucky’s scrunched nose was not necessary in Steve’s opinion, so he ignored it.

“He’s just taking me out to dinner.” 

“Which he asked you to do after helping take care of your sick child,” Sam answered, Bucky chiming in before Steve could reply.

“He made out with you  **after** discovering how useless you are in the kitchen.” 

“You are the worst best friend, you know that?” Steve scowled at the smug look Bucky flashed in response, both knowing Steve valued their bond more than everything besides Peter. 

He shouldn’t have told his friends about the kitchen incident. In his defense, he’d really only called Nat in a panic. How was he supposed to know she put him on speaker phone with the three stooges hanging on his every word? 

“You’d be lost without me, don’t kid yourself.” Bucky let his smile dip from cocky to something softer, which Steve found harder to swallow. “He’s been trying to get you on a date for months. Knew from the moment I saw him in your sweatshirt waving his big brain around like a flag at us. He wasn’t planning on letting you go any time soon. Stark is a handful I would never try to tackle, but for you? That’s something you don’t wanna miss out on.” 

“For once, Barnes ain’t talking out of his ass.” Sam nudged Bucky with his elbow to emphasize his tease, though his attention stayed on Steve. “And to be honest, I’m all for you dating him. He’s not a bad guy, once you get to know him. And Tony even passes Nat’s test, which means he’s good.”

“I know that she wouldn’t let anyone dangerous near Peter,” Steve said, trusting Natasha more than anyone with his son’s safety. She had proven several times how protective she was of Peter and his over trusting nature. Clint had an ‘Assassin Aunt’ tally on his phone for moments where Natasha stepped in to ‘diffuse’ a situation. 

“That’s not what I meant. She’s always looking out for Peter, we all are. What I meant was Nat thinks Tony is good for  **you** .” 

“That’s because she’s been trying to get me to date for a year now.” 

“Would that really be a bad thing?” Steve caught Bucky’s eye flickering over to Sam after he tossed out the question. “To find someone who you feel happy with again?” 

Steve tried to keep his face impassive when his fingers twitched by his side. He couldn’t help remembering how smooth Tony’s skin felt under his touch when sharing a goodnight kiss. It’d been well past midnight before Tony took the long trek back to his ritzy home on the other side of the city. Steve was tempted to ask Tony to stay; he’d slept there before, and Steve could manage another night on the couch if it meant more time in Tony’s presence. Except Steve wasn’t sure that was where he’d end up sleeping with the way the two snuck lingering touches throughout the night. Hot fingers brushed his inner thigh, while his palm snuck under Tony’s shirt and made its home along the small of Tony’s back. 

For a while, after Peter had dozed off with a warm, full, belly, they’d ended cuddled on the rug. Tony’s back rested against Steve’s chest and Steve’s arm wrapped tightly around his waist. His shoulders had been sore from lack of support from the day, and Tony mumbled something about ‘being too old to sit on the floor’. Neither made a move to end the intimate hold. Steve’s nose silently mapped the slope of Tony’s neck or the curve of his ear, only receiving pleased noises to encourage more innocent exploring. The electricity that had sparked in the kitchen rumbled through them, reminding Steve of their new possible relationship with each physical connection. 

But Peter was still too sick to let his mind be muddled by the most distracting pair of hips Steve had the honor of holding before Tony had left. It seemed that Tony had been on the same page, his joking complaint during the phone call home (“you’ve gotta stay up to check on underoos, and I need to stay awake so I don’t crash on the way home. Win win!”) lacking serious dismay. 

It’d been a nice memory, yet just underneath the surface were Steve’s doubts.

“It’s not that simple, Buck. Peter’s my first priority, and you guys are still adjusting to civilian life. Bucky, you’ve got appointments and physical training. Clint’s got therapy he doesn’t remember half the time and his audiologist likes having someone go with him for those times he gets down about his progress. I help volunteer at Sam’s clinic cause they don’t get nearly enough support, and have to keep an eye on Nat since doesn’t know how to slow down at her job. Plus my job, the new games coming this year- I have responsibilities to focus on and-” 

“Rogers.” It was rare for Bucky to use his last name, but it always caught Steve’s attention when he did. The determined look that crossed his face was reminiscent of Steve’s own stubbornness, ready to fight for whatever statement came out next. “We aren’t your responsibility, and we sure as hell ain’t gonna be your excuse. I lost an arm, Clint can’t hear for shit, Sam willingly re-lives his trauma at his job and Nat takes every case too personal. It all still sucks. And I bet next year, it’ll still suck. But you don’t have to take our problems on your shoulders alone. We aren’t invalid. I don’t need both arms to carry my own weight.”

“Buck-” But from the pointed look Bucky gave, Steve didn’t get to interrupt.

“If you want to end things with Stark because you don’t like him, I wouldn’t push you. But that’s not true, and we all know it. I haven’t seen you this happy, this  **smitten** , since Peggy. You’re probably denying that even as I say it, but I remember you in high school. Anyone who listens to you two for more than a minute knows it. He probably stole your heart the second you saw those big bambi eyes eyes shining with pride over Pete. And God knows that guy’s ready to build a rocket ship to mars if you ask him to. The only one who's stopping this from happening is you. And you’re not dumb enough to think any of us are gonna let you get away with that. I said it before, and I’ll say it again; your happiness matters.” 

Deep down, something shifted in Steve’s heart. Like he’d been waiting for Bucky’s blunt words to re-align a piece Steve couldn’t quite reach. He stayed silent while watching Bucky’s shoulders slump forward, the way he did anytime he was too worn down from physical therapy to keep up his cheeky persona. Sam’s hand stroked Bucky's back with a soothing touch, reminding Steve that none of them were really alone. If Steve couldn’t be there for Bucky, Clint was two houses down the street and Nat’s phone was always on her. Sam wasn’t just a warm body Bucky flirted with; he was someone trustworthy, someone who’d seen all their demons and didn’t shy away or look at them any differently. For years, he’d thought of how supportive their group was when it came to raising Peter. But he’d somehow missed just how much they knew each other. Steve didn’t need to be their main support like his son. It was scary but freeing at the same time, and he felt his eyes warm enough to make him blink quicker. 

“Who let you grow a brain, huh?” Steve asked weakly, his smile only catching half his mouth when Bucky snorted. 

“I’ve always been the brains between the two of us. Remember that, punk.” Bucky’s shoulders had started to push back into their normal stance, but Sam’s hand didn’t stop rubbing along his spine. 

“The fact that either of you were responsible for the thinking of your friendship is worrisome.” Sam helped fully break the tension, patting Bucky’s shoulder once more before he pushed off the bed. “Alright, enough talk. Tony’s supposed to pick up our Cinderella in five minutes, and I know Steve isn’t going to leave without saying goodnight to Peter.”

“I won’t be out too late,” Steve said, though he had already started walking out of the room at the mention of the son he’d left watching Paw Patrol to get dressed. 

“Well we planned on spending the night, so if you forget how to get home or a freak snow storm hits just in your area, we won’t wait up,” Bucky said with a grin too wide to be innocent.

“I don’t trust you two in my bed.” He kept his voice blunt, but his smile crept over his lips at Sam’s wrinkled nose.

“I’m not having sex with Barnes in your bed.” 

“Does that mean you’ll do it somewhere else?” Steve didn’t stick around to hear Sam’s answer to Bucky’s ‘subtle’ hint, moving toward the couch that held the pile of blankets he knew he’d find Peter under. 

“Alright, kiddo. I’m leaving.” Peter blinked slow enough to show he’d started to fall asleep on the couch, rolling on his back to look up at Steve while he yawned. 

“With Mr. Stark?” 

“Yeah, is that okay?” Peter had seemed fine with the date when Steve had asked days ago, but he knew from experience how easily a kid’s mind could change. He took in his son’s relaxed face and nod, using his little hands to pull his blanket closer to his chin. 

“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re always smiling when you’re with Mr. Stark.”

“You think so?” Steve asked quietly, heart warming at Peter’s over exaggerated head nod. 

“Yup, but it’s okay. Last time he was over, when you were in the potty, Mr. Stark told me he likes you lots, too. Uncle Clint said that I’ll find someone special one day who I wanna have lots of alone time with. I like spending time with you and Mr. Stark, but he said it’s different. Like how Auntie Sharon and Aunt Nat like each other! So I’m happy you and Mr. Stark like each other more.” Honest enough to stun Steve, Peter didn’t seem to notice when he blinked the final bits of sleep away to smile. “Is the pizza here? Uncle Bucky said I could have as much as I want once you leave. And Uncle Sam said we’d make funfetti pancakes in the morning! Will you bring Mr. Stark for breakfast daddy? They said you were having a sleepover. ” 

“Your uncles are going to be the death of me.” Before he could find the two to remind them how young his son was, his leg vibrated. He yanked the phone from his pocket, stomach flipping when he read that Tony was downstairs. Pushing the nerves down, Steve leaned over the back of the couch to place a kiss on Peter’s forehead. “Be good for them, okay? If you need anything, you can call me. Anything at all, I wont be mad, okay?”

“I will!” There was a time when Peter couldn’t bear the thought of Steve leaving without him. It’d been after Peggy had passed, and Sam had reassured Steve that it was a natural response for a young child who had lost one parent to want to attach to the other. Death was a hard concept for adults to process, nevermind children. It had broken Steve’s heart to see Peter’s confusion turn into sorrow when ‘mommy didn’t pick up the video call’ no matter how many times he pressed the red button under her face. But the years had been kind to Peter’s little heart, and now he looked content to let Steve walk out without needing to chase after him. 

“Get out here and watch my kid!” Steve called down the hall of his room, yanking his jacket over his shoulders. He waited to hear Bucky’s ‘shut up’ before he jogged to his front door. His hand hesitated on the doorknob for a moment, taking a final glance back to the living room. By now Bucky and Sam had plopped themselves on either side of Peter, their banter overshadowed by Peter’s off-key rendition of the show’s intro. Steve soaked in the moment, enjoying the peace that blanketed his anxiety. Even if the date went horrible, and Tony realized that he’d made a mistake, it’d be okay. He loved his crazy family, his stressful job, and his complicated life.

And even if he didn’t get to have Tony Stark join any of it, he’d get along just fine with what he had. 

~**~

“Just for the record,” Tony’s voice would have probably passed as casual if Steve hadn’t been very perceptive. “This isn’t how I planned to skip dessert.”

Tony’s slight waver at the tail end of his sentence matched the clench of the hand on his thigh, the other staying steady in the middle of the steering wheel. Despite Tony’s obvious displeasure in the turn of events, Steve couldn’t match his irritation. Dinner had been amazing, and he wasn’t talking about the food (though it was nothing to turn a nose up to) or elegant restaurant. 

Conversation between him and Tony should have had a hiccup of some sort at the start without Peter as a buffer. But none of the pre-planned awkwardness presented itself; Tony jumped into a discussion about his recent upgrade to his energy powered water filtration system, and Steve explained the nuances of rendering 3D animation while keeping under a flimsy budget. Their banter shifted along with the courses of food, wine dwindling out far earlier than their conversations. It’d been strange to have a full night of adult conversation, and Steve hadn’t felt his shoulders so relaxed in years.

But then Tony’s phone went off before the dessert menus were handed out. A frantic call from Pepper had Tony swearing under his breath before sending the tiramisu on the table beside them a longing look. Steve tried not to laugh at how sullen Tony sounded trying to weasel out of whatever Pepper was ordering him to do. To her credit, the little parts that Steve heard from her side of the conversation did sound apologetic. It was obvious she hadn’t wanted to interrupt the night, either, which meant the situation was crucial. Steve had already asked for the check by the time Tony huffed out his ‘you’re lucky I love you, Pep.’ and hung up the phone. 

Now, a half hour later, the two were pulling into the parking lot of Tony’s private lab. 

“I told you, I really don’t mind.” Steve couldn’t blame Tony for the detour on their date; one phone call from Bucky or Sam would have been enough for him to end it if Peter needed him. They weren’t children, both men having responsibilities that took up far too much of their time. But it was nice to see that Tony was enjoying the date as well, since Steve had already started thinking of where their next one should be. 

“I mind. My dick minds also, if you wanted to know. It’s putting in a complaint as we speak.” Tony’s lack of embarrassment over his reply made Steve blush instead. He tried to cover it with a cough, but from the wide grin spanning Tony’s face while pulling the car into his parking spot, it was obvious the move failed. 

“What are we doing here, anyways?” Steve rushed through the question to change the subject, pushing his door open. Even with his jacket, he caught the bite of air from the parking lot. The two made their way across the empty parking lot, Tony directing them toward an elevator door. 

“Pepper said there was some weird activity on the server an hour ago. J.A.R.V.I.S picked up and alerted her about it. Since it’s on one of my private servers, I have to check it out in the lab. Normally he’d be bugging me, but I’d told him to re-route any problems to her for the night.” Tony had spoken about his A.I with Peter multiple times throughout their museum visits. Steve probably couldn’t tell a stranger much about the algorithms or frequencies of the computer program, but he was awed by the parts he knew just the same. The fact that something without a human consciousness had enough understanding to alert Pepper while Tony was on their date was something special. 

“Someone’s trying to hack in?” Steve asked, Tony showing how little he thought of the suggestion with a snort.

“Nobody can hack J.A.R.V.I.S, or I’d have hired them already. Why do you think I’ve already got a place lined up for Pete when he’s old enough? Letting anyone else have underroo’s brain would be criminal, and I’m not paying for his college if he plans to work for Hammer. There has to be limits to my generosity.” Tony’s affection was easy to hear when he dropped his nickname for Peter, and it made Steve’s stomach warm. He spoke about Peter’s future like he had no question about being in it. It should have felt stifling or pushy, maybe intrusive on a first date. But Steve could picture Tony in his kitchen with powerpoints and charts explaining to a teenage Peter why Harvard was a scam and MIT ruled. 

“Maybe he’ll want to become a doctor or a lawyer; you ever think of that?” Steve knew Peter was going into science for his future career; the kid had been practically born with a circuit board in his hand. But it was fun to see how offended Tony looked at the suggestion. Feeling the need to poke the bear some more, Steve stepped next to Tony while the two waited for the fancy doors to open. “Maybe even a psychologist.”

“Don’t kid about that. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” 

“Maybe not my momma,” he knew the wind couldn’t be blamed for Tony’s shiver when he let the edge of his sentence hook. He tried not to show he noticed, his fingers slow to reach out and twine with Tony’s. “Maybe someone else.” 

“I’m sorry, I’d like a refund on my Disney prince because Mickey Mouse would  **not** approve this much…” Tony’s eyes took their time sliding down Steve’s silhouette, and it was his skin that shifted under goosebumps at the obvious approval. “You.” 

“Me? What’d I do?” Steve heard the ding of the elevator, but didn’t turn his gaze away from the brown eyes staring up at him. The flicker of lust grew when Tony’s tongue wet the edge of his lips before snuggling back behind Tony’s wicked grin. 

“Shouldn’t the question be what  **can** you do? Because I’ve got a list of theories I’d be very happy to try out. For science, of course.” A charged wink followed the statement, Tony looking far too pleased with himself when sauntering into the elevator. Steve rolled his eyes as disapprovingly as he could while his body tightened in interest, letting their connected hands pull him forward. The doors closed behind them silently, the shine and cleanliness of the garage elevator proving how little it was used. 

“Don’t think that’s very sanitary in your lab, Tony.” 

“That’s why they invented wet naps.” 

“Not gonna happen,” Steve deadpanned, but had to laugh at how Tony only wiggled his eyebrows in response. It was hard to figure out what would come out of Tony’s mind next, but Steve found he enjoyed the challenge. The second ding proved the trip to the lab was quick, and Steve finally pulled his attention away from Tony to take in the scene appearing from behind the elevator doors. Even knowing what would await him, he still felt his breath catch at the lab. It was high tech, and he was sure only the finest equipment was allowed inside. But there was so much of Tony’s personality splayed over the walls, over the messy counters and worn out couch, that it couldn’t be seen as just any lab. There was a bright gleam in Tony’s eyes when he tossed his arms out in the vacant area toward the middle of the room.

“Alright, buddy. Time to show me what I’m working with so I can get back on my date. J.A.R.V.I.S, replicate that coding error in front of me. ”

“Already done, sir.” 

“Steve, take a look around while I work out the kinks.  _ Mi Casa Su Casa  _ and all that jazz. Should only take me a few minutes, fifteen tops.” The blue glow of the holographic screen streamed over Tony’s face, the wave of his fingers more relaxed than his focused gaze. The scene was eye-catching, Tony completely in his element, and Steve’s fingers twitched with a desire to capture it. Sure that Tony would be distracted for longer than he claimed, Steve glanced around the desk, hoping to find something to draw with. It wouldn’t be his best piece, not having the right set-up or supplies, but he needed something to dispel the energy that’d been crackling under his skin since dinner. The metal work space had wrappers from meal-replacement bars and half-drunk coffee cups, but he found himself more interested in the hand-written schematics splayed across the dysfunctional mess. 

Tony didn’t seem the type to use pencil and paper often, being known for his high tech gadgets and affinity with electronics. Whenever Steve had seen pictures of him at events or galas, a new piece of tech was somewhere on display. It was nice that Steve understood how Tony’s appearance to the outside world rarely matched who he was. Here, on the messy desk in the corner of his lab, was a true reflection of Tony. There were scribbles and cross-outs of plans, looking like projects Tony didn’t see worthy enough to enter into his database. Some were marked with words like ‘not profitable’ or ‘unoriginal’. One had the unique title of ‘seemed like a good idea drunk’. Simply put, Tony saw them as failures. But to Steve, they were charming and more human, proving that even geniuses had moments of discord. Not that Tony had tried to hide that from Steve, the memory of their first night shifting through his mind. Fonder now than it’d been weeks ago, Steve pushed through the designs, making sure he kept them in order. 

Each flip of the page showed another prototype or outline for something Steve wouldn’t have ever dreamed of creating. This was Tony’s brain on full display, without the shiny lights and dramatic presentation. There was beauty in his designs that resembled Steve’s own art, humor in the little notes he wrote along the margins. The smudge marks on the edges showed Tony spent far too long staring at the pages, his exhausted mind refusing to sleep until he cracked whatever mystery he took on next. It was humbling and inspiring at the same time. He’d already known Tony was something special, had picked up on it the second he’d cooked breakfast in Steve’s house hours after being drugged for a child who idolized him. But this was Tony in his element, where even the sky wasn’t the limit. And each flip of the page made the warmth in Steve’s chest for him grow. 

A beep by his side had Steve glancing away from the pile of papers, surprised at the robot that rolled closer to him. It wasn’t as flashy or grandiose as some of Tony’s projects, but it was still enough to awe Steve. 

“Woah.” Unsure how to react, he tensed up, though a snort from across the room proved the movement was unnecessary. 

“Don’t mind Dum-E; he just thinks everyone wants to be his friend. Granted, I created him when I had no friends and dad was too drunk to recognize me, so...yay sad childhood stories. Always make a date fun.” Tony tossed out the information like a chore, his eyes never leaving whatever projection J.A.R.V.I.S was displaying for him. But once again, Steve impressed himself with how easily he could read the discomfort at the reveal. He’d bet that Tony’s mouth moved faster than his brain could stop the tidbit of information from coming out. 

“He’s amazing.” He wanted to ask more about the past, as it was one part of Tony that he rarely got to see. But he knew a defense mechanism when he saw one (his friends wrote the book on them), and he didn’t want to sour their date with past trauma. 

“That’s because you haven’t seen him with a fire extinguisher.” Steve hummed at Tony’s reply, but didn’t continue the conversation. Instead, he focused on taking in the personality of the creation. Reaching his chest, the clawed robot still tried to shrink himself, twirling his arm in a way that almost expressed excitement at Steve’s attention. The machine resembled a dog more than anything, and he was tempted to pet it before the flap of paper between the claws caught Steve’s attention. Slowly, he reached forward, taking the offering with a smile he wasn’t sure Dum-E would recognize. Dum-E didn’t try to grab the paper back, so Steve turned his attention to whatever he’d been given. The paper didn’t have the coffee stains and faded edges like the others; it looked new, and carefully managed despite the same scribbles along the margins. It was another prototype, though it only took Steve a glance to realize exactly what Tony had designed. And it stole his breath. 

“Tony-”

“One more second, sweetheart, just changing this part and we’ll be good.” But Steve couldn’t even react to the pet name. His eyes took a moment to pull away from the project, and he wondered if the shock on his face matched his tone. 

“Is this an arm for Bucky?”

“Oh.” Fingers froze in the air mid-motion, Tony blinking at the hologram before swiping the picture to his side. The light scattered into nothingness, but Steve was already too swept away by the paper held delicately in his hand. “Where did you get those?”

“There’s more?” Steve asked instead, not sure if he wanted to rat out his robot ally. Dum-E had already scampered off somewhere, maybe to pull out the other designs Tony had mentioned. 

“Nothing too crazy; I just noticed Clint’s aids were a little outdated and he told me some radio stations mess with his audio. Not a good look for Stark Industries.” A hiccup of silence was more than enough to unnerve Tony, whose mouth poured out another surprising tidbit. “Sam mentioned six of his vets are on a wait-list for prosthetics, and I was playing around with prototypes anyways. We do charities all the time, donating the tech wouldn’t be crazy.”

“Tony-” But even as Steve tried to answer, Tony didn’t stop, his fingers tapping along his outer thigh nervously. 

“Pepper’s already been talking with Nat about improving the spray given in her self-defense classes; Banner’s new chemical composition is really the star in that prototype, I just made lipstick canisters for them. And Bucky looks lopsided when he picks up Peter with one arm. It’s a hazard, and I need that brain intact. So really, making him a flexible but durable arm is more of a selfish need than-”

“Why didn’t you tell me about...about any of this?” Steve asked, feeling Dum-E poke into his side again. The crinkle of papers showed that he was more than happy to rat out his creator, though it felt like pride more than anything. He patted the top of the claw absentmindedly, but kept his focus on Tony. 

“I should have left you in college.” Tony gave a stern look to his robot, Steve catching how tense Tony’s shoulders had become. A huff of air was played up for reasons he couldn’t understand. Brown eyes rolled before looking at Steve, trying to mask the hint of discomfort. “The plans weren’t finished; I haven’t found the right materials to make Bucky’s arm. Might be meeting with a Prince from Wakanda to solve that problem. I’m waiting on parts for Clint’s aids because I didn’t like the company we originally were working with. Sam is still discussing with Pepper on what event they’d like to present the prosthetics at, and Bruce won’t be back to test the new pepper spray for two more weeks. There’s no guarantee that any of these projects will even get finished. I did them on the side, so I don’t get to dedicate as much time to them as my actual job-”

“Why are you doing any of this?” The fact that Tony hadn’t bragged about the projects or even mentioned them felt off, and when he looked away and tightened his lips, Steve knew there was a reason for the secrecy. 

“Your friends are good people. Peter loves them, and they keep you happy. Plus, the first time they met me, none of them tried to suck up to me for money. Clint tried to get in my pants, but-”

“He did what?” Steve’s eye twitched at the information, knowing Clint’s flirting was only half a joke. He could almost hear his friend’s snicker across the city. Tony looked far less annoyed by it, waving Steve’s ire away before shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“Water under fiery bridges, or however that saying goes. The point is, helping them out won’t put a scratch in my bank account, and I get bored working on SI projects. I saw a few things I could improve on for some good people, and I figured ‘why not?’. It’ll make Peter smile, and Buckeroo can’t blame me beating him in Mario Kart on his one arm anymore. So here we are. It’s nothing for you to make a big deal over.” 

“You’re building my best friend an arm; that is a big deal. A very big deal.” Because Bucky had probably told Tony how he had tried prosthetics before with terrible results. Not to get pity or for a present like this, but just because he’d come to terms with his injury long before anyone else had. The way his arm had been severed made the flesh sit at a bad angle, and Bucky always reported the arm was painful after a day of use. The better choices were too expensive, and after a few failed tries, Bucky stopped looking for a good fit. Steve had never pushed the topic, letting Bucky heal at his own pace. But somehow, a new fire of hope bloomed in his stomach when thinking of what Tony’s genius could come up with. 

“This wasn’t some creepy plan to swindle you into sleeping with me. If I thought Dum-E would sneak through my files and show them off, I wouldn’t have left them out. ”

“Of course not.”

“And I’m not doing it for you,” Tony continued, eyes wary when Steve laughed and shook his head. 

“I didn’t think you were,” Steve admitted, which made his smile only widen. He knew it wasn’t for him; Steve had learned long ago that Tony didn’t need to buy people’s affection to get them into bed. 

“Then what are you thinking?” But that didn’t take away from how badly Steve wanted to show his appreciation for the man who continued to steal pieces of his head without realizing it. He thought over the urge, realizing that he  **could** . This was a date, a fifth by most of their friend’s records, and Tony had made it very clear how little he opposed taking their relationship to the next intimate level. They’d been toeing around it for weeks, afterall. 

“I’m thinking you should have J.A.R.V.I.S save your progress,” Steve answered, moving across the lab as he spoke. “Because in three seconds, I’m gonna kiss you.” 

“He can’t just  **save** a code error-” Tony’s protest didn’t last long against Steve’s lips. Really, none of his annoyance seemed to last, Steve’s cheeks cupped by warm palms and pulled down to deepen the kiss. Steve’s hands found a home on Tony’s waist, lifting him with ease once they bumped into the couch. He pressed the warm body beneath him into the cushions, hands sliding over the buttoned dress shirt covering Tony’s lean torso. Steve didn’t stop kissing him, eager to grab the sweet taste of Tony’s tongue from his mouth. Their exchange was slow, breath spared between small breaks before Tony pushed on his chest enough to mumble his next sentence against Steve’s lips. “J.A.R.V.I.S, save the code, or whatever Steve said.” 

“Good choice.” Steve didn’t let the conversation continue, dragging his mouth down the slope of Tony’s neck. His open mouthed kisses were met with soft moans of encouragement, a tug in his hair showing how pleased Tony was with the shift. Their bodies refused to stay still, hips rolling into each other without rhyme or reason. The mis-matched tempo left Steve’s nerves on edge, not sure when or how Tony’s hips would meet his next. The scratch of his clothes against his arousal wasn’t the most pleasant feeling, but he didn’t want to pull away long enough to discard them. Tony’s skin tasted good sucked between his lips, and the arch of the toned back under his roaming hands felt perfect. 

But from the hard tug of his collar, it seemed Tony wasn’t prepared to end this night with clothes on. After leaving a strong nip against his collar, Steve pushed up onto his knees, shrugging off his shirt and throwing it to the floor. He paused for a moment, his eyes taking in the sight underneath him. Tony’s face didn’t flush as easily as his, but the dilation of his eyes proved he was just as turned on as Steve. Tony’s stomach sucked in the air he’d lost from their kisses, and he could feel the heavy heartbeat against his skin when he pressed it against Tony’s chest. The thought of leaving someone as capable as Tony breathless made a burst of pride swell through him. He yanked Tony’s shirt off in seconds, unsure if he’d gotten the last button undone when he tossed the nice fabric over the top of the couch. A black tank top greeted him, and the hint of blue in the middle of Tony’s chest finally gave pause to their frantic pace. 

“Tony, if…” He wasn’t sure how to approach the topic. This was something he knew was sensitive; Tony had made it clear that nobody but his closest friends had seen the arc reactor before. Steve wanted to believe they were serious in their attraction to one another. He hadn’t felt connected like this to another person since Peggy. But that meant nothing if he made Tony feel obligated to show off a part of him he wasn’t ready to expose just yet. Slowly, his eyes flickered up to the other’s face, his hand slipping under the hem of the tank top. His palm spread flat over the soft stomach, letting it sit there quietly while he waited for Tony’s answer. 

“Don’t got a camera on your dick, right?” Tony’s humor was slightly off the mark despite his practiced smirk, and Steve leaned down to place a slow kiss against his stiff lips. He could feel how tense Tony had gotten since losing his shirt, and Steve’s stomach cramped at the reaction. 

“Leave it on.” He said the command with a soft edge, his fingers tracing around Tony’s belly button before sinking to his dress pants. He took in how brown eyes widened in surprise, placing another kiss to Tony’s lips before moving down his body. “I want you to be comfortable when we’re together.”

“I am comfortable with you, or I wouldn’t be doing this-oh, fuck.” Tony’s hips arched up into his mouth when Steve sucked on his hip, sliding the undone pants lower to expose more skin. 

“And I’m happy you’re taking the chance on me,” Steve replied, lips quirked in a smile against Tony’s stomach. “But I don’t require any sort of sacrifice from you to make me want this, Tony. All I need is you. Show me the arc reactor ten minutes from now or ten years, I don’t mind. But I want this moment to be about us. Can we do that?” 

“I take it back; you’re literally prince charming.” Tony groaned as if pained by the thought, but Steve could see how easily his body unwound at the information. Having Tony relaxed under his touch was the goal, and Steve hummed in pride for achieving it. It wasn’t hard to assume that Tony overthought most things in life; Steve didn’t want to be one of them. 

Knowing he had momentarily thrown a wrench in the other’s heightened brain, Steve went back to work. Kissing the sensitive skin under the belly button, he nibbled the happy trail and moved lower. Tony was warm under Steve, squirming with each slow brush of lips along the top of his thighs. The couch wasn’t the best place to do something like this, but Steve wasn’t sure if he could wait to get back to either of their houses (not to mention Bucky and Sam would be terrible mood killers). With skilled hands, he helped Tony slide down his pants and boxers, having to hold back a laugh when both got caught on the dress shoes. Tony glared down like they had somehow offended him, and Steve took pity on him by helping take both off. By now, his knees were pressed to the floor of the lab, with Tony’s body sitting upright against the cushions. Fingers ran over the sinewy muscles of the thighs he kneeled between, smooth skin proving Tony really had prepared for their night to take an intimate turn. Steve’s thumbs framed his waist, his breath coasting over Tony’s heated arousal. It was enough to make him moan and toss his head against the back of the couch.

“God, you’re not fair. Teasing a man with a heart condition after a sappy monologue. You think you’re so cute, don’t you?” 

“You really don’t know how to enjoy things, huh?” Steve didn’t expect an answer after he rolled his tongue over the sensitive tip, the tang of bitterness only scrunching his nose for a moment. It was worth the sharp taste to hear Tony’s choked gasp, hands grabbing Steve’s head in a silent plea. He didn’t need to hear what Tony wanted; he dropped his head down, licking his lips before wrapping them around the heated skin. He didn’t mind the slight burn in the back of his throat when he dropped lower, swallowing to tighten the slide against Tony’s cock. 

He wasn’t pretending to know the tricks to being with a man; Tony was a whole new adventure. But he’d never been one to back down from a challenge, and he’d had enough blowjobs to understand the pleasure that came with running his tongue on the underside of Tony’s arousal. His head moved slowly, not wanting to gag himself while he adjusted to the new foreplay. From the hums of pleasure and quiet words of praise that fell from Tony’s mouth, it was obvious he didn’t mind. He pressed his hands to Tony’s thighs, yanking him closer to the edge of the couch and angling his head better. Feeling the tip drag along the roof of his mouth made a rush of bliss float through his blood, his own dick heavy and hard in his pants. He glanced up at Tony when sucking him deeper, watching half-lidded eyes stare down at him in awe. Their dinner had informed Steve that after his kidnapping, Tony hadn’t slept with anyone. They were in the same boat, both touch-starved and willing to lower their thick defenses because of the electricity that sparked between them each time they touched. 

“Sweetheart, keep doing that and I’ll come.” Steve wiggled his tongue against him in response to Tony’s warning, his hair tugged with an edge of pain he didn’t mind. While he wouldn’t be surprised if Tony had the supplies they’d need for sex down in his workshop, Steve wasn’t looking to push that envelope just yet. His stretch of the parameters for dates could only go so far, and he wanted to make sure Tony was sure about continuing things between them before they took the final step. Steve showed his acceptance of Tony’s warning by dipping his head lower, increasing the speed of his movements and wrapping one hand around the part of Tony he couldn’t quite fit in his mouth yet. The hips once still on the couch were trying to push up into his mouth, only being limited in their movements by Steve’s steady grasp. 

He didn’t turn his gaze away as Tony shuddered, back arching off the couch with a moan. The liquid that shot into the back of his throat didn’t bother him, Steve keeping his breathing even through his nose to let Tony ride out the pleasurable wave. He was enamored by the sight above him, messy dark hair flopped over a sweaty forehead. It took some time for the pulsing between his lips to stop, and he suckled the softening skin until a whine from Tony proved he was too sensitive to continue. Finally, Steve pulled back, resting on the backs of his heels and taking in the disheveled mess he’d left laying on the couch. Mostly naked and flushed, Tony looked well beyond satisfied, his eyes taking a few long moments to flutter open. 

“Your mouth is  **wicked** . Forget my refund, I want insurance on that.” The teasing smile wasn’t like the ones he faked for the press; there was an honest, warm glow to the look, and the appreciation in Tony’s gaze tugged hard at Steve’s own arousal and he tried to press the heel of his hand over the front of his pants to quell his desire. Astute as always, Tony’s eyes rolled down to the problem, tongue lazy when it dragged over his bottom lip. “You gonna get up here and let me return the favor?” 

“You don’t have to do anything; I’m really wound up already, don’t need much to get off.” Yet even as he said it, Steve was pushing onto the sofa, surprised by how quick Tony recovered from his own orgasm. The weight of Tony’s bare ass against his lap stole Steve’s breath, his parted lips captured in a heated kiss. Fingers meant for science and miracles drifted into his pants after popping the button open, teasing along the wet spot on his boxer-briefs. The blunt edge of a nail tracing around the head of his cock had Steve’s hips jerking up with need, moan swallowed by Tony’s skilled mouth. 

Warm thighs surrounded his own as Tony kept his perch over Steve’s lap, giving him limited room to push into the palm rubbing over his clothed erection. He trembled against the couch, hands desperate to find purchase on Tony’s hips to keep his mind from spinning. His skin felt too hot, body pulsing with need that had been muted when focusing on his partner. Now, with nothing but an alluring tongue in his mouth and steady grip slipping into his boxers, Steve’s pleasure took over. A flip had been switched, and Tony’s earlier passivity was burned away by knowing touches. Three long strokes down his cock and a twist of a tightened grip over his tip had Steve’s orgasm rushing through him. A playful bite against his lower lip muffled the call of Tony’s name when he came, body shuddering against the soothing hand smoothing down his spine. The hand on his cock didn’t slow, urging him to crest higher into a pleasurable haze he hadn’t reached in years. 

When the last drop of his orgasm rolled over Tony’s knuckles, Steve slumped back on the couch, chest heaving from the breath that refused to return to his lungs. His eyes didn’t open, but he felt soft kisses being placed along and jaw. The affection that wrapped around him was soft like a blanket, making his arm feel heavier than lead when he wrapped it around Tony’s naked waist. Easily, the cooler body cuddled forward into his chest, and Steve could feel the edge of metal creasing over his nipple. It didn’t bother him, enjoying Tony’s soft breath against his throat and the sweaty forehead pressed to his shoulder. Steve ran his fingers through the hair on the back of Tony’s neck, ignoring the sticky mess in his boxers to savor the connection between them. 

“Feeling good, champ?” Tony’s lips vibrated against his skin, and Steve leaned into the sensation with a sigh. 

“Why do I feel like you know the answer to that?”

“Because I’m a genius, obviously. But I still wanna hear how I stroked your brain out through your dick.” 

“Tony.”

“Told you we’d need those wet naps.” 

“Oh my god.” Groaning, Steve knocked his head against the man snickering in his lap, trying to hold back his own smile. It was hard not to whenever Tony was around, if he was being honest. Even when Tony was driving him up the wall or throwing him for a loop, there was a charm to his genuine happiness that sucked Steve into his orbit without question. 

“You can borrow some clothes from Rhodeybear’s room when we get to my place.” Tony’s nonchalance when inviting Steve back to his house made him pull his head back, trying to catch the elusive gaze now glancing around the lab. “Pepper says there’s a washer machine in my house somewhere, so we can try and find it to wash your clothes.” 

“What do you do with your clothes when they’re dirty normally?” He had to ask, hoping to catch Tony’s eye with the question. 

“Margaret handles it, but I gave her the night off. I didn’t expect to be wearing much clothing.” 

“Because you wanted to bring me home with you?” He asked, focused enough to pick up on Tony’s second of hesitation. 

“I plan for any probability. Flat tires, sex marathons, seafood sickness making you incapable of going home. I’m a fixer. So I fix plans and plan fixes. Okay, that wasn’t my best string of thought, but my orgasm is still ringing through my dick, so I blame you.” Finally, Tony turned his eyes back to Steve, making his indifference look believable. “It’s not a done deal, and I’m well aware you’ve got responsibilities to Peter that may make the point moot. You probably didn’t have a plan set up for- this was just a possibility I calculated for.” 

“You could just say you wanted me to spend the night.” He wrapped his arms tighter around the squirming body in his lap, knowing Tony would try to leave to avoid answering him. Burying his face into the smooth shoulder in front of him, Steve pressed his next words against Tony’s collarbone. “Sam and Bucky said they were planning on staying with Peter at my house, anyways.”

“Oh?” The moving stopped, but Steve didn’t let his grip slacken, enjoying the softness of Tony’s skin under his tank top. 

“You ain’t the only planner in this relationship.” He popped out the words so easily (feeling a pinch of guilt for taking credit for his friend’s scheme), that he almost missed what had fallen from his mouth. Panic hit him for a moment, even if he refused to let his body tense or jerk away from Tony. Slowly, he let the words roll around in his head, and the instant fear started to deflate. It’d just...felt right, despite how quickly his heart dove into his stomach. They had been spending time together, and spoke daily about their jobs and stressors in life. Peter loved Tony, as did all of his friends. Their dates were just as good with his son as they were without (though the extra curriculars were vastly different), and being with Tony was just nice. Relaxing.  **Fun** . Something he didn’t think he’d get again. 

“If you were a good planner, you would have brought lube.” Tony didn’t seem bothered by Steve’s slip up, either. Instead, he made a point to glance down at Steve’s still-clothed thighs, patting one with a wistful sigh. “Could have ridden these like a cowboy.” 

“There’s always tomorrow; Peter wants you to come by for breakfast. Something about rainbow pancakes.” Relieved at the answer, Steve slid one hand up to cup Tony’s cheek, pulling him close enough to see the small furrow of his eyebrows.

“In the morning? Ugh, so early.” Tony leaned his head forward at Steve’s guidance, kissing him with no heat. “That kid’s lucky he’s smart.” 

“You’d like him anyways.” 

“Maybe.” Tony was coy with his answer, but Steve showed how little he thought of it when he snorted and pinched his cheek. “Ow! Now I definitely don’t like you.” 

“Not even a little?” He let the muscles in his thigh twitch after presenting the question, knowing Tony would feel it against his naked skin. 

“You play dirty.” Another press of their lips, with a few playful nips, proved his point was made. It took two seconds for the kiss to soften, hands curling around Steve’s jaw to let the connection linger a few seconds longer. They broke apart, but didn’t go far, a quiet question posed against his lips. ”You sure about this? About me?” 

“No regrets,” Steve whispered, knowing Tony would take years to probably believe him. He could move the guy in, marry him, let him adopt Peter legally, and he’d still have that sliver of doubt clouding his mind. It seemed ingrained too deep in his soul to wash away with a few good dates and promises in the night. But all of that was okay; Steve would remind him anytime Tony needed him to. Steve’s feelings wouldn't change. Time would prove that. 

Because the best decision he’d ever made was taking a drunk guy home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's the soft ending I could never not write. 
> 
> Just as a side note, one of my Betas left a comment on the side of the chapter saying an alternate ending should have been Dum-e spraying them with the fire extinguisher because their body temps got too hot and so he doused them to 'keep them safe' and I couldn't stop laughing. 
> 
> But thank you again for being so kind and reading my story! Please kudos and comment to let me know if you liked it! Thank you all so much!

**Author's Note:**

> Steve Rogers is synonymous with savior complex and nobody can convince me otherwise. Make sure to leave me kudos and comments if you like this story and to see what happens the morning after. Until next time!


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